Frankie Rules
by Tall T
Summary: After years of work in the service of Foster's, Frankie suddenly finds herself alone with the full responsibility. Currently well on its way in a new storyline that includes a new career for Mr. Herriman and the return of three unpopular house guests!
1. Only One Master

Chapter one: Only One Master

Valentine's Day:

"I can't believe you're going through all this trouble", Frankie said. _And I can't believe you talked me into helping you_, she added in her mind. "Arranging this whole Valentine's Day ball at Foster's should be more than enough."

"It's a big step forward, dear, but they're going to need one extra push. We need to get them all alone, with nowhere else to go. Now, is your car ready?"

"Yes, grandma."

"And the tank?"

"As good as empty. They won't get further than a couple of miles."

"Excellent!" She leaned out the window "Oh, would you look at those storm clouds. The rain is going to come down hard tonight, just like the weatherman predicted. All for the better, of course. Oh, and here comes the main players"

_Players? They're the ones who are being played!_ Frankie thought as she watched Mac and Goo walk hand in hand towards the front door. She remembered that the first time she watched them hand in hand, she had been a little too quick to draw conclusions…"They do look cute together", Frankie admitted.

"But…?"

"Are you reading my mind, grandma? Okay, I admit it - I think you're being to manipulative."

"Manipulative? If I tried to ruin the dates and relationships they've had with other people, now that would be manipulative! But they always did that by themselves. And you know why?"

"Tell me…" Frankie muttered.

"Because those other people weren't right for them. They're perfect for each other!"

"Perfect? Grandma, Goo is wild and impulsive while Mac is calm, careful and responsible."

"Exactly! Gunilla needs someone to stop her when she goes too far, while Maxwell needs someone to show him how to have fun! They complement each other!"

Frankie hesitated. Well, in a way, that made sense. In a way.

Feeling that she had won the argument, Madame Foster confidently declared:

"I'm gonna get those two together, if it's the last thing I do!"

"At this rate, grandma, it _will _be the last thing you do!"

Madame Foster laughed.

---------------

Four months later:

Madame Foster had laughed.

But Frankie was closer to the truth than she had realised.

"Please sit down, Miss Frances", was the first thing Mr. Herriman said as she entered his office. "We have some important issues to discuss this morning."

Frankie did what she was told

"I know that the departure of Madame Foster still hangs heavy on us all" Herriman began, removing his top hat as he mentioned her name.

Frankie nodded. Her grandmother had died three weeks ago. She was nearly eighty-seven years old at the time, but that didn't make it any less tragic. To her very last day, she remained as charming and cheerful as ever.

"But for some of us, life must go on. And especially for you, Miss Frances"

Frankie raised her eyebrows curiously. What exactly did he mean by that?

"We need to talk about the future, such as it is. Now, my plans are simple: I will retire as President of Foster's, effective immediately."

"Retire?" Frankie hadn't seen that coming. "Uh, are you sure you won't wait with that decision until tomorrow? That's when Grandma's will is being read."

"That won't be necessary, Miss Frances. The thing is…I had a private conversation with Madame Foster." Again, Mr. Herriman removed his top hat as he mentioned her name. "Although she always put up a brave face, she knew several months ago that she was not long for this world. And so, she confided in me. She told me how she wanted things to be…"

Mr. Herriman paused for a moment and looked at the attentive Frankie.

"You get the house with its surroundings and all the belongings, on the one condition that Foster's remains a home and a shelter for imaginary friends. The house is all yours, but you only get one-fourth of the savings. The rest goes into my pension fund."

"Grandma made you a pension fund?"

"Precisely. Which means that she did not expect me to remain in my administrative position after her inevitable demise."

"Are you sure that's what she-"

Herriman waved his hand dismissively.

"She wanted _you_ to have the house, you alone. Tell me Miss Frances…As the mistress, or – dare I use the word? – Madame of the house, would you let me remain in my current position of authority?"

Frankie sighed "No" she admitted. But I'd offer you the position of accountant and maybe…"

"Miss Frances, please, I'm too old to be demoted", Mr. Herriman said without a trace of bitterness in his voice.

"Who's talking about demotion? I don't see why we can't run Foster's together as equals."

"Equals?" Mr. Herriman looked amused. "Miss Frances, there's an old Baltic saying: If you are the master and I am the master - who shall carry the basket? Foster's Home can only have one master. Now tell me: When you become owner of the house, do you intend to continue spending your days doing menial tasks such as cooking and cleaning?"

"Not if I can help it."

"Or do you intend to sit back and let other people take care of the daily maintenance most of the time, like the Madame?" he asked, taking his hat off once again.

"No! I'm too young to retire."

"Well, I'm not. So it looks as if you're left with one choice: You must run things, Miss Frances."

Frankie was all out of arguments. After all, how did you argue against someone who was trying to tell you that you had won?

"I think we have an agreement, Miss Frances. Now, if you would sign my resignation, please…?"

Frankie slowly put her name on the resignation paper and the two copies.

"And thus ends my formal responsibilities to Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends", Mr. Herriman declared and looked around. "I believe I'm sitting in what is now your chair, behind what is now your desk. We can't have that, can we?" He got up, and started hopping towards the door.

"You'll be seeing me around, obviously", he added, stopping for a moment. "For one thing, I shall attend to the reading of the will tomorrow at noon. Ta-ta, Miss Frances."

With those words, he left the flabbergasted Frankie alone in his…no, her office.

Frankie didn't know whether to laugh or cry. After all the years of being bossed around, Mr. Herriman was suddenly out of her hair, just like that. She felt she ought to have said something more profound. She should have told Mr. Herriman that while they may have had their differences, and while there were many times that he made her miserable, and while he could often be an overly bureaucratic and narrow-minded pain in the…come to think of it, maybe it was just as well that she didn't try to say something profound. But the point was, for all their disagreements, Mr. Herriman did a good job at running Foster's. That much was true. Come to think of it, the two of them usually worked rather well together, even if they often disagreed deeply. But of course, it was always easier to acknowledge such things in retrospective. For better or worse, Mr. Herriman was no longer in charge, and she…

It suddenly dawned upon Frankie that Foster's Home was now her responsibility alone.

Well, if her grandmother thought she was ready for that kind of responsibility, she wasn't going to let her down. But she was going to do things her own way.

_Continued _

* * *

And there you have it, the first chapter of my first fanfic! Well, one of two actually. And now I hope you excuse me for going all Goo on you for a moment and deliver a lengthy explanation: 

This fic started out as a short and somewhat naughty comedy story about Mac and Goo as teens. Gradually, I decided I wanted to add something more to the story, so I made it less naughty and focused more on Frankie. Eventually, it became a more general story about what I think would happen (or at least what I'd like to happen) at Foster's in the future. As I'm vaguely implying in this story, and as I'm going to imply even stronger in the next chapter, this takes place about eight years after the events in the cartoon. In other words, Mac is sixteen by now, and Frankie is close to thirty. This is pretty important. I'm also suggesting that Goo is, in fact, two years older than Mac. I think it makes the story better, and anyway, it's never been specified how old Goo is supposed to be.

I'm putting down "romance" as one of this story's categories, and by now it's probably pretty obvious whose romance I'm referring to : ) I'm going to imply later that Frankie has a boyfriend, but that won't be important to the plot. Besides, I wanted to write this story without OCs, and the only workable relationship I could think of for Frankie, would have to be with an OC.

As for the other category I'm going to use…the story gets funnier later. For obvious reasons, I felt I ought to be a little more serious to begin with

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, and all its characters, are created by Craig McKracken and owned by Cartoon Network. But the suggestion that Mac is short for Maxwell and Goo is short for Gunilla, is my own idea.


	2. The New Regime

**A longer chapter this time, with plenty going on. So keep reading and please review...**

Chapter two: The new regime

**Valentine's Day: **

Everything was going according to plan. Foster's first annual Valentine's Day ball had been a success. Even Frankie had a date.

But of course, the real purpose of the ball wasn't to improve _her _love life…

Frankie looked out the window. The rain was coming down ever harder now. Not the kind of weather that Goo would send Mac out in. 

Then came the phone call she was waiting for.

"Ah, hello Goo. Why are you calling now, you left just a few minutes ag….Out of gas, really? Gosh, I'm so sorry, I can't believe I forgot to check that. Tell you what, I'll hop on the bus and drive you home…uh huh, about three miles north of Foster's., got it. Don't go anywhere…no, I guess you're not going anywhere in this weather, huh? Be right there."

"Why didn't you tell them the bus broke down, like we agreed?"

"Because, grandma, it would seem a bit suspicious if I claimed that the bus broke down before I even had a chance to try and start it! I'll call them up again in ten minutes."

"Oh yes, of course, silly me", Madame Foster giggled "You are so clever, my dear."

"I still can't believe I agreed to go along with…hey, I usually keep these CDs in my car. Why are they here?"

Frankie exchanged glances with Madame Foster, who smiled broadly.

"You replaced them, didn't you?"

"Well, punk rock isn't very romantic, dear. Maxwell and Gunilla are going to need some…mood music."

---------------

"_What the world needs now is love, sweet love  
It's the only thing that there's just too little of"_

"Burt Bacharach, Barry White, Astrud Gilberto, Sade….I didn't know Frankie was into music like that."

"She's getting old. Old people like that kind of music." Goo leaned back. "Not that it's bad", she added, and began humming.

---------------

**Four months later: **

Frankie spent the evening going through the finances. They were good this year, especially thanks to an increasing number of contributors. By noon the next day, when Frankie was officially made owner of Foster's Home, she had decided on a new organization chart. And at three o'clock, she arranged a small meeting. Very small; in fact, there were only two people she wanted to meet.

The first one was Wilt

"Why do you want to talk to me in Mr. Herriman's office, Frankie?"

"I'm getting to that, Wilt. But technically this is no longer Mr. Herriman's-"

"Nooo, I love you more!"

The other one was Goo, who opened the door while cooing into her cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the world around her.

"Goo…"

"Noooooo, I love _you _more!"

"Goo…"

"Oh, Mac - Stop it!", Goo giggled, still not paying any attention at all Frankie. "And by that, I mean _don'_t stop it", she added hurriedly.

"_Gunilla!"_

That got Goo's attention. She didn't like it when people called her by her real first name.

"Yeah, that was Frankie. She wanted to have a meeting with me here at Mr. Herriman's office….I dunno, maybe one of the scribbles I got adopted last Saturday was one she had trained to scrub the toilets….No, Herriman's not here. Wilt's here, though….No, only him…Of course, I promise I'll tell you as soon as the meeting's over…well, I gotta go…Nooo, you hang up first…Noooooo, _you _hang up first…"

Frankie groaned. She had to control her temper. After all, she could no longer blame Mr. Herriman when she was in a bad mood. "Goo, _please_…"

"I'll hang up first", Goo sighed.

"So Frankie, what's the deal?" she asked while getting a chair.

Frankie leaned back.

"Well, first of all you're both wrong. This is not Mr. Herriman's office."

"Excuse me, Frankie, but Mr. Herriman's office have always been right here…"

"No Wilt, I mean, this is not Mr. Herriman's office _anymore_. It's mine. You are currently looking at the new owner of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends"

"Hey, that's awesome! Congratulations, Frankie! So the first you did as the new landlady was to get rid of that stuffy old bagd…rabbit, huh? Good for you!"

"I didn't get rid of him, Goo. He resigned yesterday, of his own free will. As of today, I'm taking over his duties."

"Awesome! So you're President of the house now?"

"Weeell…I don't know if I should be using that title, considering that I'm also the owner of the house. For the time being, I think I will refer to myself as the Proprietor. But the job will be pretty much the same as the one Mr. Herriman used to do."

"But how are you going to manage that, on top of the workload you already have?"

"I'm not, Wilt. I'm going to hire someone new to take my place as the estate manager. Someone I know to be responsible and reliable…someone I know is liked and trusted by all the tenants…"

"And who would that be?"

Frankie smiled overbearingly. "Take a hint, Wilt. Why did you think I called you here today?"

"You want…you want me to be the manager of Foster's? Well, I'm honored, Frankie, but…aren't I up for adoption?"

"Good question, Wilt. Are you? Cause I've been thinking…you've been here for as long as I can remember, and you've never been adopted. That makes no sense."

"Oh there must be plenty of friends who are more interesting for kids to adopt than me."

"So you say. It's even in your internet profile", Frankie said, clicking on the computer mouse. A short video clip of Wilt appeared on her computer screen. It said:

"_Oh, I'm not so great. You should adopt one of__ the other awesome friends here."_

"That clip is eight years old. I've asked you many times if you want to make a new one for Foster's webpage, and you always say no. Now is this just plain modesty or is it…fake modesty? Because you are, of course, wrong. You _are_ so great, Wilt! You're kind, helpful, unselfish and attentive. You're impressive-looking. _And _you were created by a boy who later became a famous athlete! You'd think the visiting families on adopt-a-thought Saturday would be fighting over you! But then, how can they do that when you're always sitting behind the table and pretending to be part of the staff?"

"Pretending? But I've always considered myself part of the-"

"Exactly!"

"I see your point, Frankie. And I don't like the thought of ever having to leave Foster's. I can't see it happening in the foreseeable future. It's just that…well, I know that this sounds very fickle, but…I want to keep a door open."

"I understand."

"Frankie…just promise me that if I ever meet a kid who I think _really _needs me…you won't hold me back because of any contractual obligations."

"It's a deal Wilt. But in return - Will you agree to…"

"Yes, I will be the manager"

"_YES!! He'll be a pushover!"_

That was Bloo's voice. Frankie looked up. Well this wasn't very surprising. Calmly, she got out of her chair and walked toward the door.

"Uh oh, I think she heard you, Azul."

Hurriedly, Frankie opened the door to find Bloo, Eduardo and Coco standing in the hallway.

Bloo grinned foolishly. "Uh, we were just passing by. Say, if Wilt ever gets adopted, who's next in line-"

"Bloo I'm going to say this as calmly as I possibly can: Get…lost."

Sticking his head out, Wilt just had time to give Bloo a look that said: _I'll remember that 'pushover' remark_, before Bloo and Eduardo hurried down the corridor.

"Co coco co cococo co?"

Goo, to whom the question was directed, shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't discussed that yet."

Ignoring this conversation, Frankie pointed in the direction where the other two imaginaries had run off and said: "That goes for you to, Coco".

_My first stress situation as a leader_, Frankie thought as she got back behind her desk and the meeting could resume. _I think I handled that pretty well_.

"Now, Goo there's already a couple of people who are eager to find out why I've invited you here today, so let's satisfy their curiosity. First of all, no, I don't have any complaints about the work you do - voluntary, I might add - on adopt-a-thought Saturdays. You're doing great, which kind of brings us to the subject. But first of all, I hear you've just graduated?"

"Mm-hm."

"So what are you going to do next?"

"Well, I want to study art. But my college fund is pretty meagre. I don't know if I can afford it yet. Besides, I'd hate to leave Mac now. When we started dating, he was a sophomore and I was a senior, and he thought that was pretty cool, because dating a senior gives you status. Even when that senior is considered a weirdo, which I still am, I admit that. Not that I think he started dating me because I'm a senior, we all know he's not that shallow, in fact he's probably one of the least shallow guys I've ever met, so I don't understand how a guy like him could have created Bloo. Not that I don't like Bloo, on the contrary, I've always liked him even if he can be a jerk at times. But that's another story. Anyway, right now I'm nothing in particular, because I'm not at college and I don't have a job. So actually, maybe it would be good if I went to college now, cause Mac shouldn't have to date a loafer except there's the money problem-"

"Yes I heard" Frankie interrupted her while waving her hands frantically. She knew that Goo was short on cash. Last year, she blew most of her savings on clothes, after a particularly embarrassing adopt-a-thought Saturday when three different families had wanted to adopt her. They all refused to believe that someone who dressed up like that could possibly be human. One father was referring to her as "that rodeo clown Friend" and a couple of boys kept calling her "the scarecrow". This caused Goo to change her entire wardrobe. In retrospect, Frankie realized she shouldn't have advised her to pick up quite so many expensive brand items. But it was just too tempting to come along as a consultant on a massive shopping spree. Besides, this happened at the time when Madame Foster had just begun putting some real effort into coupling Goo and Mac. So naturally, she enthusiastically encouraged Frankie to help Goo pick out some better-looking clothes.

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Now tell me, have you considered working for a year to try and save up enough money to go college?"

Goo hesitated for a moment. "You…you're offering me a job?"

Frankie nodded. _Well, at least you're a little quicker on the uptake than Wilt_…"How would you like the title…assistant manager?

"Ohmygoshohmygosh, this is so awesome!! Thank you, Frankie!" Goo cried, leaning over Frankie's desk and shaking her hand vigorously.

"Y-you're w-w-welcome. Just remember you have to handle much more than just the adoptions from now on. Being assistant manager basically means you'll be doing a lot of chores around the house. You and Wilt have to do all the chores that I used to, which should be enough to keep two people in full employment."

"Sure thing" Goo said as she ran out the door, picking up her cell phone again.

"You're starting Monday at 8 p.m", Frankie shouted after her "And yes, you may leave now, thanks for asking for permission", she added sarcastically.

"Got it!" Goo shouted, ignoring Frankie's last comment. "Hey, Mac, you're never ever gonna guess what just happened! Not in a million years! Well, you might, 'cause a million years is an awfully long time to spend guessing, so you'd probably get it right eventually..."

"Coco co co?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Coco, but I promised to tell Mac first. But come to think of it, I can tell you both at the same time…"

---------------

A week later:

Frankie opened the newspaper and hurried through the pages until she came to the spread where the words THE NEW MADAME FOSTER was written in big capitals. She shrugged. Well, that headline was the reporter's idea, not hers. She didn't fell comfortable about calling herself Madame Foster. It was too early for that. But the centrefold photo looked great. It showed a smiling, elegant-looking Frankie surrounded by a multitude of imaginaries.

"Good morning, Frankie!"

Frankie looked up form the newspaper and into her estate manager's gaze.

"Oh, good morning, Wilt!"

"You look like you're in a good mood today", he said, sounding a teensy bit nervous.

"I am. Can I help you?"

"You can help...someone. We just got in a new imaginary. And it's someone you know."

"Really? Well, who?"

"You know about Mac's next door neighbour, Louise, right?"

"Yes…"

"And you know about her imaginary friend?"

"Yesss.." Frankie's heart sank. She had an idea what Wilt was trying to tell her.

"Well, Louise is a big girl now. She says she doesn't have enough time for..uh…"

"_I like chocolate milk!"_ said a hoarse voice form the corridor.

"..Cheese."

"_Chocolate miii__llk…."_

Frankie let out a heavy sigh. _Well, we have to take him, I suppose._ She handed Wilt a few bills.

"Tell Cheese to come to my office, so I can have him registered. In the meantime, run out and buy a bottle of chocolate milk and a bottle of aspirins, if you please."

"Uh, actually, Cheese shouldn't have any chocolate milk. He's lactose-intolerant"

"Well, buy it anyway. I'll need something to wash down the aspirins with."

Wilt gave her a confused look.

"I know, I know, my jokes stink. But buy me that aspirin, will you?"

"_I like cereal…"_

* * *

A lot wrapped up in this chapter, but the story isn't over yet! In the next episode, we'll be seeing more of Bloo, both directly and indirectly. And as you might have guessed by now, every chapter will begin with a continuing flashback sequence from Valentine's Day. 

Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, and all its characters, are created by Craig McCracken and owned by Cartoon Network.

Lyrics are taken from 'What The World Needs Now Is Love', a song written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, and originally preformed by Jackie DeShannon.


	3. Quiet Goo

Disclaimer: Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends and its characters are created by Craig McKracken and owned by Cartoon Network.

Lyrics are taken from "Promises, Promises", a song written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David.

* * *

Chapter 3: Quiet Goo

Valentine's Day:

"Call them now!"

"Grandma, it's only been four minutes."

"Four minutes will do. How are Maxwell and Gunilla supposed to get in the mood if they expect you to come and pick them up in the bus any minute?"

"Fine…"

"Hello, Goo? I'm sorry, but the bus seems to have broken down…Yeah, I know, when it rains it pours, pun not intended…yeah, I know what the weather's like…you'll do that, huh?...good idea…again I'm really sorry about this…ha ha, yeah, goodbye!"

"Now, what did she say?"

"She going to try and call for a cab, of course, just like I warned you of."

Madame Foster laughed mockingly. "Oh, I'm sure she'll try…"

"I still can't believe you've made a deal with the Taxi central." Frankie commented, rolling her eyes.

"Obviously, there's a lot you can't believe tonight, dear. But don't underestimate your grandma's abilities. Now, let's give them, oh, say thirty minutes before we get the bus started after all. By the way, when you called her, did you hear anything in the background?"

"They were playing Bacharach on the stereo."

"Excellent!"

* * *

_Oh, promises, their kind of promises can just destroy a life  
Oh, promises, those kind of promises take all the joy from life  
Oh, promises, promises, my kind of promises  
Can lead to joy and hope and love  
Yes, love!!_

"I don't believe it!"

"Now what?"

"We have to wait forty-five minutes for a cab! Well, it's understandable , I suppose, this being a big dating night after all, and when the weather is like this…well, walking hand in hand in the rain can be very romantic I guess, but you can have too much of a good thing. Of the rain, that is, and being completely soaked isn't very romantic, if you ask me. We just have the worst of luck tonight, huh? First, we borrow Frankie's car, which turns out to be out of gas, and I still can't believe she forgot to check, especially since it was her suggestion that we borrowed it in the first place, then Foster's bus breaks down, which means we're probably stuck here. At least my folks can't help us, cause they're on a date too – with each other, of course, cause if they were on a date with some other people then I'd be really worried and much more upset than I am now, and I'm upset enough as it is - and in any case, they're also going to need a cab when they decide to get home, cause they won't be in a condition to drive. Usually, when they go to a party one of them stays sober to be designated driver, but tonight they specifically said that…" Goo interrupted herself.

"Sorry, Mac, I guess my yapping is the last thing you need right now"

"Oh, it's okay", he replied, _"Ithinkit's kindofcute"_

Goo eyes widened. "Sorry, why are you mumbling all of a sudden? What was that last thing you said?"

Mac retracted. "Ah, no it was nothing."

"Ho-kay, so what are we gonna we do now? Do _you_ know anyone who can come and pick us up?"

"My mom is on a date. And so is Terrance, if you can believe it. But even if he wasn't, I wouldn't call him for help. I'd rather wait forty-five minutes for a taxi than to owe _him_ a favor."

"Good, 'cause that's what we're gonna have to do anyway."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"What are we going to do in the meantime?"

"Hmmmm…I know, let's play truth or dare!"

"Truth or dare? What am I, eight years old?"

"Pleasepleaseplease!"

"No points?"

"No points, promise. What am _I_, ten years old?"

Mac smiled.

"All right then. Only…there's not much space to do anything here."

"So let's concentrate on the _truth_, then! Can I begin?"

"If you wish."

"All right then…hmm hmmm…"

Goo smiled knowingly. Then she said in an uncharacteristically slow voice:

"Do you really think my yapping is kind of cute?"

Mac gave her an embarassed look. _I walked right into that one_, he thought.

* * *

Seven months later: 

On a bright monday noon, Frankie was getting ready for her daily ritual - Checking out the discussion forums at Foster's website.

There was a new thread on an old subject.

**Wilt and Frankie's f****orbidden love **-Posted by: Bloomeister666 - Replies: 14 - Views: 67

With a sigh, Frankie opened the message. There was nothing too sleazy, just a lot of vague implications. And besides, too many people had read it already, so it would seem suspicious if she deleted it now.

Her requirement that the website's posters had to identify themselves had not stopped Bloo from spreading his stupid online rumors. Some of them were harmless enough, like the one about Cheese being an alien spy or Frankie herself being an imaginary friend. Some were technically harmless, but still offensive. In fact, it wasn't the stories about her and Wilt's relationship that upset Frankie the most, but rather the one about her following the directions of a diminutive pea-shaped friend when she turned things around during the TV team's initially disastrous visit to Foster's eight years ago. Frankie considered it a great, personal insult to her that Bloo tried to put the credit for her quick thinking on some unknown friend. Nobody could even remember having met this "Peas" guy, anyway! However, after Bloo started spreading that rumor, a lot of friends suddenly claimed that they could vaguely remember having seen him.

And that was the problem: Many of the friends were, by nature, naïve. There was always someone who was prepared to believe in any of Bloo's stories. The last time Bloo was spreading a rumor about Frankie and Wilt, Eduardo kept asking nervously if he was "interrupting anything" whenever he encountered the two of them together.

"Excuse me, Frankie?"

Frankie was so deep in her won thoughts that she hadn't noticed Wilt standing right in front of her, holding two paychecks. Hurriedly, she clicked out of the forums before the tall friend had the chance to see what she was reading. He shouldn't have to endure yet another one of these embarrassments.

"What is it, Wilt?"

"If you have the time, I would like to talk with you about these paychecks." He handed them to her.

Frankie examined the checks. It was his and Goo's. "Is there a problem?" she asked confused.

"Well, it's just that…Goo is paid less than me."

"That's right. So what?"

"Well…it doesn't seem fair. Goo needs to save up money for college. She should have more than me. Could you raise her salary and reduce mine?"

Frankie stared at her estate manager in utter disbelief. Wilt rarely joked, and he didn't look like he was joking now, either. She sighed.

"Wilt, you outrank her! I know you're always trying to be nice to other people, but this is ridiculous!"

"No it's not!" Wilt replied firmly with a hint of anger in his voice, as if he felt that Frankie was patronizing him. "When you were caretaker, your salary was higher than Mr. Herriman's, even though he outranked you!"

_How did he know that? _For moment, Frankie was at loss for words.

"Besides, there are other reasons why I need less money. For one thing, I don't pay for food and shelter."

"Well, neither does Goo! She lives with her parents."

"Still, that doesn't cost Foster's anything, does it?"

Frankie leaned back. She was wondering if perhaps she was writing history here. How many bosses ever found themselves arguing with employees who insisted on being paid _less_?

"I see your point Wilt. But I worked hard for my caretaker salary, and so do you. Now, I'm not saying that Goo doesn't work hard as well, but do you really think she deserves…"

"Frankie, how long did it take before Cheese got adopted?"

"Two weeks."

"And for those two weeks, who took care of Cheese all the time, and kept him out of your way?"

"Goo."

"And_ who _got him adopted after only two weeks?"

Frankie gave up.

She grabbed a pen, and with a shrug, crossed out the name Wilt Michaels on the biggest paycheck and replaced it with the name Gunilla Gae. "Okay, I'm giving your salary to Goo, and vice versa. Hopefully this will make everyone a little more hap…"

Frankie raised her head, suddenly noticing that said Goo was waiting patiently at the door.

"Can I help you, Goo?" she asked, surprised that the girl hadn't simply burst in, as usual.

"Uh, yeah, I think you should know that….Bloo just tried to warm a can of soup in the microwave oven…still in the can, that is…and….uh, it caught fire."

Frankie looked at Goo for a moment. _Uh, and that's all you have to say in the matter? _she thought. _No painstakingly detailed explanation, no digressions, no paraphrasing Bloo?_ She was used to Bloo creating disasters, but Goo using less than thirty words to explain a disaster…now, that was creepy.

"Is that all?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Well, thank you, Goo. I'll go and have a word with Bloo in a minute."

" 'Kay. And…uh, about the salary?" She looked down. "Thank you. Thank you both."

As Goo closed the door behind her, Frankie turned to her estate manager.

"How long was she standing there?", she asked.

Wilt shrugged. "Long enough to hear about our little salary dispute, obviously."

Frankie's eyes narrowed. _Goo knew she was getting a raise, and her only reaction was to look down at floor and say "thank you"?_ Not that Frankie wanted the girl to bow down and kiss her feet. But she was used to Goo showing just a little more, well, enthusiasm.

"Wilt, have you noticed anything unusual about Goo lately?"

"Well…she seems quieter nowadays. And for her, I guess that is kinda unusual", the tall friend conceded. And in her mind Frankie added:

_Come to think of it, she has been that way ever since Mac started working here on weekends._

Wait a minute, was that it? Was her relationship with Mac in trouble? Maybe it was a mistake to allow them to work at Foster's together…Did they have a fight? Was Mac tired of her? Were they tired of each other? On the other hand, it was only two days ago that she caught them making out in the laundry room. It didn't make sense.

_What am I missing here?_, Frankie thought as she got out of her chair.

"I'm going to check out the disaster area", she told Wilt while walking towards the door, "Meaning wherever Bloo is at the moment."

Down at the kitchen, Bloo was trying to turn out the fire he had just started. When he saw Frankie coming in, he jumped and made a desperate attempt to cover up the smoking microwave oven.

"I-it was an accident!" he cried "You see, I thought the can was made out of cardboard. Like those things they pack potato chips in…"

"That's not what I want to talk to you about", Frankie said wearily. "Well, actually I do, but it can wait till later. There's another matter…"

"Oh…well, is it about me borrowing the bus yesterday? 'Cause I asked Wilt for permission, and he said yes. Well, he didn't exactly say yes, he just grunted and nodded, and he _might_have been napping at the time. But he looked like he was awake, I swear…."

Frankie sighed. "No, that's not it, either. Listen, this concerns Mac…"

Bloo gasped "He told you that it was I who mixed up the laundry last week so that your green favourite sweater turned white? That dirty, lying sneak! He promised not tell anyone…"

"No, I didn't even know that was you."

"Bloo's eyes widened. Then he slapped himself on the forehead.

"All right, I give up" he sighed. "What is it about Mac?"

Frankie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

* * *


	4. The End Of Innocence

**Warning: This is where the fic earns its T rating. I've been careful – ****maybe **_**too**_** careful – to avoid using any bad words, but the implications are pretty clear. **

**Disclaimer: ****Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, and all its characters, are created by Craig McCracken and owned by Cartoon Network.**

**Lyrics are taken from 'This Guy's In Live With You', a song written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David, and originally preformed by Herb Alpert.**

Chapter Four: The End Of Innocence 

Valentine's Day:

_When you smile, I can tell  
We know each other very well  
How can I show you?  
I'm glad I got to know you 'cause  
_

_  
I've heard some talk  
They say you think I'm fine  
Yes, I'm in love  
And what I'd do to make you mine_

"Yes…"

"Was that a 'Yes' yes? Not a 'maybe' yes or a 'kinda sorta' yes?

"It was a 'Yes' yes."

"WOOHOO! I knew it!"

"My turn."

"Aww, won't you let me finish gloating?"

"There's nothing to gloat about. I'm not embarrassed to admit that I think your yapping is…cute", Mac said, and tried to look like he really wasn't embarrassed. Apparently it worked, because, for once, Goo was actually at loss for words.

"Now then…" he continued, "Truth. This all seems a bit suspicious, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"First, Frankie arranges a Valentine's Day ball at Foster's – something which has never been done there before. Then you casually ask me if I have a date. Then, when we're going home, you borrow Frankie's car, which happens to be almost out of gas. Strangely enough, neither you nor Frankie remembered to check that in advance. The weather outside is awful, so you call Frankie and ask her to pick us up, but she can't help you because Foster's bus broke down. Then you call for a cab, but it takes forty-five minutes to get one. Or at least that's what you _claim_…"

"Uh, Mac? The point of the truth in Truth or Dare is that you're supposed to ask me a question."

"I'm getting to that. Now…what I'm trying to say is…" Mac gave Goo a theatrical grin "….did you and Frankie conspire to get the two of us alone so you could try and seduce me?"

For the second time that evening, Goo was momentarily at loss for words. For a little while, she just stared stupidly at him. Then a very foolish-looking grin spread across her face. Then she laughed, loud and long.

"No", she replied when she got her breath back. "But tell you what – I don't consider that a serious question, so I'm gonna give you another one."

"How generous" said Mac, who didn't seem to be taken aback by Goo's reaction. "All right, then…" He smiled again. "When you laughed just now - Did you laugh because you've never been interested in me like that, or just because I surprised you?"

"…"

Three times in one evening. That had to be a new record. For a moment, Goo merely gave Mac a look that said: _Wow, you're good at this!_

Then she smiled again. Not a foolish smile, this time. It was a warm, friendly and maybe slightly anticipant smile. Then she said, with an uncharacteristically slow voice:

"Because you surprised me, Mac. Just because of that."

* * *

Seven months later:

Assuming that he was safe for the moment, Bloo also sat down and poured himself some coffee.

"So what do you want to know about Mac?", he asked

"Are there any…that is to say, have you noticed any problems between him and Goo as of lately?"

"Pfft! I wish. Because of her, he hardly spends any time with me now! Only Mondays, Tuesdays, Wedensdays and Thursdays. In the weekends, he hardly notices me! Still - it's Goo. She's practically one of us. So I guess I shouldn't make them break up."

Frankie frowned. "_Make_ them break up?"

"Sure, if Mac was with a girl I didn't like, I'd think of a way to break them up _ages _ago!" Bloo took a sip. "I'm not giving up on my best buddy that easily!"

Frankie smiled uneasily. "You weren't collaborating with my grandma, were you?"

Bloo looked at her in confusion. "Sorry?"

"Nah, never mind, it was an inside joke. But getting back to the subject…so Mac and Goo haven't been fighting or anything?"

"Fighting….?"

Bloo brightened up

"Yes! Yes! They have been fighting!" Bloo cried out enthusiastically, obviously thinking that he was telling Frankie exactly what she wanted to hear.

"Are you sure?"

"Oh yeah! Every Saturday for the last three weeks!"

Frankie stared at Bloo in disbelief. _Is he serious? _"I hadn't noticed…" Frankie muttered weakly.

"Come to think of it, you're always out shopping when it happens. Funny, that. Anyway, it always happens in the guest room." Bloo said, pointing upwards. Having a guest room was a luxury that Foster's usually couldn't afford, but thanks to Goo's adoption efforts, they currently had one room to spare. Frankie suddenly got a terrible suspicion…

"It usually lasts for half an hour." Bloo continued "But I haven't actually seen them, 'cause they always lock the door. I tried to get in once, and boy did that make Mac mad!"

Bloo paused, then added in a more casual voice: "Say Frankie, I hadn't noticed until right now, but you're looking awfully pale. Maybe you need a vacation…"

"Actually, I think I've been too much away from Foster's lately!" Frankie said, getting up. She didn't have the courage to ask Bloo any more questions.

_Bloo could be making this up_, she told herself. _He can be very sly when he wants to._ She didn't quite manage to convince herself, and spent a better part of the afternoon questioning other imaginary friends in the house. The good news was that not too many of them had overheard Mac and Goo, and those who had, didn't seem to understand what had been going on. And actually, that made sense. Imaginary friends were the creations of children. They usually didn't have that kind of…urges. Frankie was glad that she had an internet filter installed ages ago.

The bad news was that there was no doubt, at least not to an adult human, what Mac and Goo had been doing in the guest room. There was no mistaking the descriptions that some of the friends had – quite innocently – given to Frankie.

For a while, Frankie wandered nervously and aimlessly around in the corridors. _Well, try to be a little realistic_, she told herself. _Mac is sixteen, and Goo is eighteen. Did you really expect their relationship to be strictly on a "holding hands" level?_ But the point was, this was happening in her house! Where the imaginaries could hear them, and indeed had overheard them! She couldn't believe they would have the nerve! At least she couldn't believe that _Mac_ would have the nerve. Why take such a stupid risk? Well, Goo's parents only went out once a month. And as for Mac's household, there was always someone at home there in the evenings. His brother Terrance was still living at home at the age of twenty-one, something which she had often heard Mac complain about. But there was nothing he could do about it. Terrance, who was working as an assistant to a used car dealer, paid for his stay.

Finally, Frankie looked at the clock, and noticed it was time to prepare dinner. Cooking was the one chore Frankie still participated in. Goo's attempts to make anything more complicated than fried eggs had proven disastrous, and she could hardly expect Wilt to take care of the cooking alone; he only had one hand, after all. So she still took care of lunch, dinner and baking cakes - With their assistance, of course. Today it was Wilt's turn to assist Frankie on the kitchen, and thank goodness for that. She wouldn't be able to act normal around Goo right now.

Frankie had hoped that busying herself with the cooking would take her mind off this awkward situation. And it did, but only for as long as it lasted. In the evening the problem with Mac and Goo was, once again, all she could think of. She read and reread the rule book, even checking out the roughly two dozen rules that she had deemed redundant or unreasonable after taking over Mr. Herriman's position. Nothing covered this, which wasn't all that surprising. When it came to dealing with imaginary friends, this was not regarded as a possible problem. The rules didn't take human relationships into consideration.

For a little while, Frankie considered merely adding a new rule, discreetly making Mac and Goo aware of it, and expecting them to take the hint…_No. That would be letting them get away too easy._ She had to confront them. In her head, she played out various scenarios for the inevitable confrontation. They were all equally unpleasant.

_It's Monday_, she thought to herself. _There's still plenty of time to decide what to do before next Saturday. _

Cold comfort.


	5. The Ultimate Sugar Rush

Chapter Five: The Ultimate Sugar Rush

Valentine's Day:

Madame Foster looked at the clock.

"How long has it been now, dear?"

"About half an hour since I told Goo that the bus wasn't working.", Frankie replied

"That'll have to do. At this moment, we got the motor running again after all. And that's the story we're sticking to." Madame Foster grabbed a coat and an umbrella. "C'mon dear, let's go and celebrate my matchmaking triumph!"

Frankie grabbed a thick raincoat. She was still a little doubtful, but didn't want to crush her grandmother's optimism. Not that she could if she would. Right now, Madame Foster was so excited she would probably just ignore it all. Besides, Frankie wanted her grandmother to succeed. When it came to such things, Frankie was a big softie herself. Even way back when Goo was a nuisance who filled Foster's Home with tons of random imaginary friends, she liked the thought of Mac and Goo being an item, and it had broken her heart when she thought that she and Mr. Herriman was forcing Mac to choose between Goo or Foster's.

Getting down in the driver's seat, Frankie was about to close the door when she noticed a familiar little blob that came running through the rain.

"Whoa, hold the bus! You're gonna go and pick up Mac, right?"

"And Goo." Madame Foster replied with a smile. "And you're welcome to tag along, Bloo. I think you're about to learn a lesson that every imaginary friend has to someday."

Bloo sat down in the seat right behind Madame Foster. "And what would that be?", he asked her indifferently.

"You can't _always _expect tobe the centre of your creator's universe."

The car was only a couple of minutes' drive away. Frankie stepped on the brakes, and honked.

They waited for a minute. Nobody was getting out of the car.

Frankie honked again.

"I don't think they can hear us", she commented.

"Or maybe they don't want to", Madame Foster, her smile getting even broader. She pushed the button that opened the bus door. "Let's go and have a closer look, shall we? But discreetly."

Frankie took a flashlight out of the glove compartment and followed Bloo and Madame Foster, who were already outside.

Running ahead, Bloo was the first one to reach the car.

"I can't see anything", Bloo whined as he squeezed his face towards the side window. "It's too dark!"

Switching on the flashlight, Frankie moved it slowly towards the front seat. She could just about make out the silhouettes of Mac and Goo.

"Hey you guys, we got the bus working again", she said to the couple in the car. "Are you all…right…?"

There were four or five seconds of awkward silence. Then Bloo let out a scream, and fainted. Frankie held the lit flashlight towards the front seat of the car for a few more seconds before she began to feel rather embarrassed.

Madame Foster, however, was anything but embarrassed. Right now, she was dancing triumphantly, completely ignoring the rain that was still coming down hard around her.

"WOO-HOO! Give me an archery set and a diaper and call med Cupid! Who's the champ? Who's the champ?"

Frankie smiled. Deep down, she knew that she was every bit as happy about this development as her grandmother. She fuddled with the flashlight in her hand.

"Go ahead and have another look, dear. You know you want to."

"No, grandma, I don't. Let's leave the two lovebirds alone and get you and Bloo back in the bus before you both catch pneumonia." Picking up the subconscious Bloo, Frankie walked back towards the bus with her slightly more hesitant grandmother following right behind.

Bloo woke up a few seconds after being dumped on one of the bus seats:

"Oh man, I just had the craziest dream. I dreamed that I saw Mac and Goo kissing in the front seat of a car!"

He got up and looked around nervously.

"But that _was _just a dream right? Guys?"

Ignoring him, Frankie turned to Madame Foster and asked:

"So, how long should we wait, grandma?"

"Let them take their time, dear. Sooner or later, they'll notice that the bus is here." She took another look at Frankie's car, which was still in darkness. "We shouldn't interfere until the car starts shaking, at least!", she added, giggling.

* * *

Seven months later: 

Now the car _was _shaking, at least in a figurative sense, and her grandmother was no longer here to tell her what to do.

Frankie sighed. It was Friday, and the ideal solution to her problem had yet to present itself. For the first time since her grandmother's will was read, Frankie almost wished that Mr. Herriman was still in charge, if only because she would've loved to see how the rabbit would react when presented with such a problem. She nearly considered discussing the matter with Wilt, but decided against this. Apparently, _he _didn't understand what had really been going on either. None of the imaginary friends did. Some of them had a vague idea of the whole flowers and bees thing, but the details seemed to be a mystery to them. Or put in other words: Many imaginary friends knew where human babies came from - but not how they got there. If she was going to talk this over with Wilt, she probably would have to answer a lot of embarrassing questions. Frankie was on her own.

Goo, while still not her old, peppy energetic self, was in a better mood now. She was obviously looking forward to the weekend, especially, maybe, to Mac's presence…and her -Frankie's - absence….

* * *

Adopt-a-thought Saturday came and went without any problems. As usual, it ended at four in the afternoon, after which Frankie usually went out shopping, leaving Mac and Goo…well, not technically alone, although the house was always a little emptier after a successful Adopt-a-thought Saturday. 

As far as anyone knew, Frankie was preparing to go shopping. As far as anyone knew. She was running around at the kitchen looking for the keys and the shopping list, but it was all an act. Mac and Goo were sitting, calm and relaxed, by the kitchen table. Possibly, this was also an act. Mac was drinking coffee - surprisingly, caffeine didn't have the same disastrous effects on him as sugar. What effect caffeine would have on Goo, was anyone's guess, but everyone was happy that she always drank tea.

"I'm going now", Frankie said in what she hoped was an ingenuous-sounding tone of voice. "It'll take at least two hours, maybe three."

She hated herself for setting up her employees - her friends - like this, but she couldn't think of any other way to solve this problem. At least not any other way that she wanted to go through with.

* * *

Frankie looked at her watch. Ten minutes. That would have to do. 

"Hello, Miss Foster…uh, why are you hiding in grandpa's bushes?"

Frankie looked up at the friendly face of the eleven-year old blonde boy who had become a recurring guest at Foster's Home.

"Oh hello, Young Man Rivers", Frankie said with an apologetic grin. Young Man Rivers had earned his strange nickname because of his relation to Madame Foster's neighbour and rival, Old Man Rivers. "Sorry about this. You see, I…I'm playing a game with Mac and Goo."

"Oh, can I join?"

"Sorry, but I don't think so", Frankie replied as she got up. "This is not a game for kids…"

Frankie snuck back into the kitchen. Well, Mac and Goo wasn't there anymore. And she didn't hear any noise from the guest room, which was situated right above the kitchen. Looking around, she suddenly noticed something lying right next to Mac's cup, something that wasn't there when she left. Sugar. A freshly opened box of sugar cubes. There were three cubes missing.

Mac, of all people, was using sugar in his coffee? Why would he doing that…unless he _wanted _to be….

Frankie's thoughts were interrupted by the noise she had been expecting to hear from the guest room.

…_unless he _wanted_ to be aroused_, she finished in her thoughts.

She moved towards the stairs. _Okay Frankie, you got them dead to rights. Here we go!_

The last thing she thought before she knocked on the door to the guest room was: _I'm sorry I have to do this, I really am._

She knocked. No response.

She knocked again, a little harder this time. But still not hard enough, apparently.

The third time, she hammered at door, shouting "ALL RIGHT YOU TWO, STOP THIS RIGHT NOW!!"

Obviously, they heard her this time. For a moment, there was dead silence. Then she heard Goo and Mac's voices from behind the door:

"_Was that Frankie?" _

"_God, no, please don't let that be Frankie! Anyone but Frankie…"_

"IT'S ME, FRANKIE!!"

From the other side of the door, Frankie heard Mac cursing and Goo whimpering. It suddenly dawned upon Frankie that she was actually enjoying this. She was getting worked up about it, and continued in the same voice of impending doom:

"I'LL BE SEEING YOU IN MY OFFICE IN ONE MINUTE, OR LESS!". Then she hurried to her office, trampling her feet a little louder than strictly necessary.

Frankie barely had time to sit down before Goo came running in. Her clothes were badly assembled, but at least she was fully dressed. For a few seconds, Goo just stared at her employer, fearing (or possibly hoping) that she was going to be the first to say something. But Frankie had no intentions of doing that. She figured that at this moment, silence was more intimidating. The look of Goo's face suggested that she was right.

"Uh, Frankie?", she began carefully, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for what's happened here, and I take the full responsibility for it. Uh, for what just happened before you knocked on the door, that is."

Another moment of silence.

"Because, I'm eighteen", she continued "and Mac is only sixteen. So I'm uh…"

Goo interrupted herself, obviously hoping that Frankie would decide say something. No such luck. Frankie noticed that Goo was sweating now. More and more, she was enjoying the guilty pleasure of tormenting the girl like this. Goo went limp for a moment, then she suddenly bent over Frankie's desk, grabbed her employer's collar and nearly shouted into her face:

"_Please don't fire Mac!! _I'll understand it if you fire me, but this isn't Mac's fault! I practically forced myself upon him! I spiked his coffee with sugar to make him more excited! I-"

"Don't exaggerate, Goo" Mac interrupted her calmly as he came walking in. "Listen Frankie, we are both equally to blame for this. And besides, Goo only spiked my coffee the _first_time. The other times, I did it myself…ooops!"

"Oh,_ smooth_, Mac!" Goo said icily, suddenly looking less guilty about the whole situation.

At this moment, Frankie decided she had given them the silent treatment long enough. "I already know that you've been doing this before. Three times - four, if you count today - in _my_house!"

She paused.

"Now, I'm not going to fire you. But I would have, if I didn't consider you my friends.", she added with emphasis. "I mean, for goodness sake, we are in the business of hitching up children with imaginary playmates! Playmates who have been overhearing you! Can you imagine the questions I would get from parents if friends who had gotten adopted started imitating you?"

"Uh, I'd rather not", Goo replied honestly. "So…now I suppose I'm not getting the raise you were going to give me after all, huh?"

Frankie and Mac both raised their eyes. Frankie suddenly realized that she had never even considered this. She simply hadn't thought that far ahead.

"_You got a RAISE?"_, Mac shrieked. "Why didn't you tell me that? If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken the chance on…"

"No use crying over spilled milk, Mac", Frankie interrupted him. "Well, I could deny you the raise, but then I'd have to explain Wilt _why_. And I'd rather not do that. You see, hedoesn't understand what you've been doing, even though he heard you."

"You're kidding!" Goo burst out. "He is, what, nearly forty years old!"

"He is also an imaginary friend. And like almost all imaginary friends, he is and remains basically innocent. The Imaginaries' grasp of reality is essentially different form that of humans."

Frankie leaned back.

"But of course, this does call for some kind of punishment. Maybe I'll think of something else…"

* * *

At noon the next day, Frankie summoned to a house meeting. Having gathered all the tenants, plus Mac and Goo, in the hallway, she got straight to the point: 

"As you may know, we've had a guest room for a few months now. However, I've decided we don't really need a special room for this purpose. Not for the moment, anyway. So I've decided to give the room to one of you. And whoever gets it, will have it all to him-, her-, or itself!"

At least a dozen imaginary friends began talking, shouting and arguing at the same time. Having your own room was considered a great privilege, and Frankie received at least four or five requests a week from friends who argued that they needed one.

"Calm down everybody!", Frankie shouted, waving her hands in the air. "I will decide who gets the room through a contest - or at treasure hunt, if you like. It's a method that Mr. Herriman taught me. The rules are simple: Whoever finds the key to the room, gets the room. You see, last night I hid the key _somewhere_in the house. It could be _anywhere_, and I'm not giving any hints! You just have to turn over everything, everywhere, if you're going to have any hopes of finding it."

She looked at her wristwatch and raised her right hand theatrically in the air.

"The key hunt starts _now_! Knock yourself out!"

Nearly all the imaginary friends began running up and down. Already now, sofa cushions were flying and all the wastebaskets in the hallway had been overturned. Frankie could hear furniture being removed several places upstairs.

Then she turned towards Mac and Goo, who were sitting in the stairs. She gave them a look that she hoped was stern, but yet somewhat sympathetic and friendly.

"I hid it really well" she assured them. "It may take a couple of hours before they find it. In the meantime, I suggest that you get some rest, 'cause you got a long day ahead of you."

* * *

This concludes my first "Coming of age" FHfIF story. However, I have more story ideas set in the same continuity. For the moment, my plan is to make a one-shot and then continue with "Frankie Rules, volume two" (or something like that), which should focus less on Mac and Goo's relationship, and more on the imaginary friends themselves.

So brace yourselves for more stories from the years of the Frankie administration.

Meanwhile, please review!


	6. See You In The Funnypages

** Figmenta Non Grata, part one: See you in the funnypages**

* * *

_My ongoing eight-years-later fanfic is finally ready for an update, now with an entirely new storyline! Please remember to review!_

* * *

One Saturday morning, as Frankie was on her way to pick up the mail, she noticed that Mac and Goo were standing in the hallway, reading a newspaper. It was one thing that they seemed to slack off on a Saturday morning, when they were supposed to be busy making preparations for Adopt-a-thought-Saturday. But she paid more attention to the fact that for some reason, they were laughing hysterically at whatever they were reading.

"Something interesting in the paper today, is it?" Frankie asked, crossing her arms.

Mac and Goo both looked startled. Spontaneously, Mac hid the newspaper behind his back.

"Uh, no, nothing special, Frankie we were just reading a funny joke."

"Can I see it? I could use a good laugh."

Mac hesitated.

"It's today's paper, isn't it? I'll get to see it sooner or later" Frankie continued, holding out her right hand in a rather commanding gesture.

Mac sighed "It's on page two", he informed her helpfully while handing her the paper.

"Ooh, the political cartoon? This oughta be good!", Frankie commented while opening the newspaper.

It _was _good. The newspaper cartoon was about her, and it was depicting her as an old-fashioned street organ player. But instead of a monkey holding out the cup for the money, a big scary-looking extremosaur was holding it. For added comedy effect, it was wearing the same little hat that a street organ monkey would be wearing. Next to the threatening extremosaur, the mayor was nervously throwing big dollar bills into the cup.

Frankie knew what this was about. Two days ago, she had a meeting with city hall, asking for more public grants to Foster's. When the mayor asked her why she needed the money so badly, she had emphasized the need to secure the extremosaurs' pens better. This wasn't meant to be a threat, of course, but many people had interpreted it that way.

One important difference between Mr. Herriman's leadership and Frankie's was that while Mr. Herriman didn't care much for mass media, rarely gave out statements, and even more rarely agreed to do interviews, Frankie set herself up as a public figure. The media knew they could always count on her cooperation in all imaginary friend-related cases. She was regularly called and asked to make a statement or participate in public debates about imaginary friend-issues, and she always agreed to do it. Frankie realized there was a certain risk attatched when you invited the press like that - she shuddered to think what they might have said if they'd ever found out about Mac and Goo's' "secret dates" in the guest room a few months earlier, for instance. But so far the increased public exposure had only been good advertising, and the number of adaptations had increased steadily over the last few months.

Mac and Goo were visibly relieved when Frankie started giggling at the cartoon. "Yeah, it _is_ pretty funny, she agreed. "Say, do you mind if I borrow this paper? I keep a scrapbook of all our press clippings, so I'd like to cut this one out."

"Sure, just keep it!" Goo answered. "Mr. Herriman bought at least a dozen copies and spread them out all over the house - _OW! _- Well, she would've found it out sooner or later, Mac!"

Frankie smiled. "If he's doing this to get a belated revenge for the old Funny Bunny affair, it won't work." She said bemused. "And just like the Funny Bunny affair, I bet this will only be good for publicity. Now get on with the preparations, will you?" she continued as she walked down the hall.

"Ees funny picture of you in the newspaper today, Miss Frankie!"

"I know Eduardo."

"You play the street organ, only instead of a cute little monkey, you have…"

"I know, Eduardo, I've seen it!"

As it turned out, Frankie was right; the political cartoon was only good for publicity. Today's adopt-a-thought-Saturday drew its largest crowd in ages. And while many people was coming just to comment on the cartoon, make organ jokes or even ask Frankie to sign their newspapers, it turned out to be a great day for Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. Firstly, Frankie personally received several contributions to Foster's. Of course, these contributions were invariably accompanied by lame jokes - "so now you won't have to take the extremosaurs to the street", or something like that. But when people gave you money, you didn't complain about their poor sense of humor. Secondly, the home arranged three times more adoptions than usual that day. Wilt for careful to point this out to the weary Frankie as soon as Adopt-a-thought-Saturday was finished.

"Yeah, we did great today", Frankie agreed as she locked up the door to here office. "But if I hear one more organ joke now, I'll flip!"

"Uh, in that case maybe you should go and have a rest while I clean up your office", Wilt suggested nervously while he used his good arm to try and keep Frankie from opening the door."

"Wilt what are you talking about?" Frankie pushed open the door. "Like there's gonna be a street organ in my office…" she said, laughing.

The laugh turned to a protracted gasp as she looked into her office. For a while, all she could do was just standing there, gaping. Eventually, she said:

"There _IS_ a street organ in my office!!"

Indeed there was. A big, boxy wooden thing with pipes, a crank and the word "Drehorgel" painted on the front in large, gothic capitals.

"Why…what…_HOW_?"

"It was delivered by Harry Mayer's antique shop downtown earlier today." Wilt explained "You were busy, so I took care of it myself."

"Mayer Antiques…" Frankie mumbled. "But why did they -? I swear, if Bloo bought something and billed it on Foster's again…!"

"No, no, it's nothing like that!" Wilt assured her. "It's a gift! Mayer's delivery man assured me of that. See, there's a note on the crank."

Frankie picked up the note. It was short and to the point:

"Greetings to Foster's from Harry Mayer, organ donor"

As Wilt heard the last part read out loud, it was as if a realization had suddenly dawned on him.

"Organ donor! Now I get it", he exclaimed and began laughing out loud. Frankie rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Frankie, but it suddenly occurred to me -" he began, and then laughed some more.

Frankie examined the instrument. Well, it was a generous gift, no matter how you looked at it. The organ seemed to be rather old, and at the same time in excellent condition. Too bad the cartoon hadn't depicted her riding a Porsche...

"So what do we do with it?", Wilt asked when he finished laughing.

"Well, first of all I'll write Mr. Mayer a nice than-you-note, he deserves at least that much. Then I'll do a net search on antique instruments. This thing has got to be worth something"

"So we're not keeping it?"

"I don't see why we should. Surely nobody in this house has any use for -"

"A genuine _organo a rullo! _Mamma Mia! Where did you get it, Madame?"

A imaginary friend resembling a humanoid cartoon rodent came running into Frankie's office (in fairness, the door was wide open). Her name was Patricia, although most of the friends knew her as Eurotrish. Immediately, she began examining the instrument with great interest.

"Uh…you know how to play a street organ, Trish?"

"Well, it doesn't take any special kind of musicality." she admitted "But I know how to use it, si. Can I try it out?"

Frankie pondered at this for a moment. Well, Eurotrish was sharing a room with Coco, and Coco had been a bit annoying as of lately…

"Sure, help yourself. But be careful. And whatever you do, don't let Bloo anywhere near it!"

"Will do. Grazie, Madame Foster!", Eurotrish said while she rolled the organ slowly out of Frankie's office.

And on that note, Frankie finally allowed herself to sink slowly into an armchair.

"What a day", she sighed. "Although I can't help but feeling there's something I've forgotten…"

Sunday:

"I can't believe I forgot to read the mail! All day!"

"I'm sorry, Frankie"

"Sorry for what? It's not your job."

"No, but as a good caretaker and deputy I should have reminded you to read the mail."

_Good old Wilt. You never change, do you?._ Franke thought "Well in that case I forgive you, and I forgive myself. Besides it's a weekend, so no harm done, I suppose. There wasn't a lot of letters anyway. Let's see -" As she sat down with the mail, Frankie was momentarily distracted. "Goo! Is Mac here yet?" she shouted to the assistant caretaker as she saw her passing by the office.

"No, he's a bit late".

The bell rang.

"Maybe it's him!" Goo said, and ran dow Then suddenly she stopped. "No, that couldn't be him, cause Mac never rings the doorbell when he when he's coming here to work. When he just comes to visit, however…"

"Answer it anyway." Frankie shouted while she picked up the mail.

The first letter seemed to be from an organization called…

"Imaginary Parents?" She scratched her head "You ever heard of them before, Wilt?"

"Can't say I have, sorry."

Frankie was about to open the letter when she was once again distracted by outside activity:

_"Hi-i-i, didya miss me?"_

It was a short sentence, but not so short that Frankie failed to recognize the high, shrieking girl's voice that spoke it.

_Oh no, it can't be…_

_"YOU!"_

That was Goo's voice. It was loud and full of rage.

Frankie ran out of her office and leaned over the banister. Oh yes. Standing in the entrance door was…

"Berry nice to be here again!"

_Oh, no. And this weekend started out so well…_


	7. Sweet Monster

**Chapter seven: **

On the front door of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends, there is a plaque. It's a very important plaque, because it's got Foster's motto written on it:

Give us your tired, your poor  
Imaginary friends with no beds but the floor.  
Your cast off Creatures, Pedigrees, and Mutts  
Even if they're royal pains in the butts.  
Any friend who enters through this door,  
We will house and nurture forever more

Martha Foster - now remembered as _the original_ Madame Foster wrote the motto and had the plaque put up long before Frankie was even born. It was inspired by the poem on the Statue of Liberty. Of course, the part about "forever more" was conditional. The point of the home was to provide new homes and new children to abandoned imaginary friends, so the tenants were expected to try and get adopted, or at least allow the staff to try and get them adopted. The part about "Even if they're royal pains in the butts" was often considered to be an example of old Madame Foster's silly, but charming sense of humor. But Frankie, who had to suffer more than her share of imaginary friends who were indeed royal pains in the butts, knew better. That part of the poem was a very, very important reminder

Frankie knew how important the text was, and that it would be sacrilegious to even consider removing the plaque. But now that Frankie was in charge, there were a few times - very few, mind you - when she was tempted to abuse her current position by picking up a crowbar and tearing the plaque brutally off the door.

From the top of the stairs, Frankie was currently witnessing the entrance of a visitor she was hoping she would never have to see again.

"Oh hello…Goo was it? So, I heard that you're Mac's main squeeze now? So I figured this was the right time to come back. I mean, now that Mac's going steady he doesn't have so much time for Bloo, right? I've been living on the streets for a few months, but I figured now would be the right time to come back. Here, take my suitcase. OH BLOOO….."

Frankie decided it was time she took care of the situation herself, before Goo did something hasty.

"HEY! Let me down!"

Too late.

"Hey you can't throw me out!" Berry objected as Goo carried her down the front lane of Foster's Home.

"Why not? You tried to kill my boyfriend!"

"Sheesh! That was ages ago! And he wasn't even your boyfriend back then!", Berry pointed out, as if those two little details made attempted murder quite acceptable. "Anyway" she continued, "like I said, that won't be an issue anymore. He won't be standing between me and Bloo now that he's got you to keep him busy."

"I'm so glad I can be of help", Goo muttered sarcastically.

"I know you'd see things form my perspective!"

"You want your perspective?" Goo bellowed as she opened a trashcan, dangled Berry over it, and waved the lid demonstratively. "Well, take a good look at it, 'cause in a few seconds it's gonna get pretty dark around you! It's time to take out the tr -"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Goo" interrupted Frankie, who had come running after her.

Goo hesitated, but continued to dangle Berry over the open can.

"Come again?"

"If Berry has been living on the street and doesn't have a home anymore, we have to take her in. Put her down. Carefully."

Goo let go of the deceivingly cute, pink imaginary friend, who merely grinned.

"But…she's a criminal! An' I'm not just talking about what she did to Mac. She's a kidnapper, a robber, a con man…uh, con woman…uh, con imaginary friend. You name it!"

"I can believe that. But neither you nor I have any proof of that. We _tried_ to have her charged for all of those things, and you remember how that went…?"

Goo nodded glumly. No affiliate of Foster's would ever forget that fatal day in court two years ago. Mac and the Bling family had tried to get Berry convicted for a number of crimes, first and foremost and attempted murder on Mac, kidnapping the Bling family and holding them against their will. The problem was that the Bling family had never seen Berry in her true form, so they couldn't confirm that she was the same "Barry" who had drugged them, tied them up and kept them locked up while she used their mansion and their money for her own purpose. So the case depended on Mac and Bloo's testimonies. And of course, when it came to Berry, Bloo could never get his facts straight. He kept referring to Berry as "Heather", and failed to remember what the connection was between "Berry" and "Barry". His testimony was considered useless by the court, and to make matters worse: During one particularly tricky interrogation, Mac lost his temper and began yelling at Bloo for mixing up the details. Mac later tried to explain himself by saying that the bailiff gave him a regular coke even though he had asked for a diet coke. That wasn't good enough for the judge, who fined Mac for contempt of the court.

"I remember", Goo confirmed. "But are you seriously telling me we have to treat her just like any other…"

"The plaque, Goo, always remember the plaque. We can't make any exceptions."

"A very wise decision, Madame Foster - I can call you that now, right? Especially since if you _hadn't_ let me in, I would've gone straight to the press and given them a sob-story that they would've eaten right up! I even practised on a performance that I was going to give on TV if necessary. Wanna see?"

Without waiting for an answer, Berry let out a loud cry that made both Goo and Frankie take a step back.

"WAAAAHAAAA! THEY THREW ME OUT ON THE COLD, HARD STREETS! I HAVE TO SLEEP OUT IN THE RAIN AND FIGHT WITH DOGS OVER FOOD SCRAPS!"

Most amazingly, she also managed to produce, on spot, a literal flood of tears from her eyes, very much the way people cry in cartoons.

"- And you wouldn't have liked that, now would you, Madame Foster?" she added knowingly to Frankie. "I know how concerned you are about Foster's public image. Gosh, you're on tv or in the papers every other day now! I've been paying attention, y'see."

Frankie sighed "Yes, point taken. Thanks for the convincing demonstration, Berry. Now if you would just come with me, we should get inside and have you registered."

"Whatever you say, Madame Foster." Berry replied civilly. Then she turned around one last time and said to Goo, who was still sulking.

"Don't worry, Goo, I'm not holding any grudges. I just want Bloo to myself. Why, if everything goes right, maybe we can go on a double date soon!"

"And now you should do something useful to get your mind off this whole affair." Frankie said, and handed Goo the key to the cooler room. "It's time to feed the extremosaurs. You know what to do."

"I know what I'd like to feed to the extremosaurs…", Goo muttered to herself as Frankie took Berry inside.

But she did know what to do. She unlocked the cooler room, threw a heap of raw meat into a big plastic bag, and picked up the extensible pike that they used to reach for the pens and feed the extremosaurs from a safe distance.

On her way to the pens, she finally saw Mac came running. She stopped, allowing him to reach her.

"Sorry about this, babe" he said breathlessly "But I -"

"Don't you "babe" me!" Goo snapped. "You're late! Now go and make yourself useful, Mr. Assistant to the Assistant Manager!" She threw the bag of meat and the pike viciously into his arms.

Goo usually acted ridiculously cheerful, so whenever she suddenly got into a fury (and it did happen sometimes), she seemed all the more intimidating. For a few seconds, Mac only stared at her, bewildered, then he simply said:

"Ok."

As they walked towards the pens, the guilt was already getting to her:

"I'm sorry, Mac, it's not you I'm mad at, not at all. And you're probably gonna be as upset about this as I am…"

"Upset about what? What's happening?"

While Mac fed the extremosaurs, he got the whole story. Towards the end, he too had a strong urge to treat the extremosaurs to a little pink snack.

"Is Frankie serious? She's gonna let her stay?"

"She blames the plaque. Even if they're royal pains and yadda yadda. Oh, and she mentioned the trial two years ago, remember that?"

"I _specifically_ told the bailiff to get me a _diet_ coke…", Mac muttered angrily.

"Anyway, I tried to talk her out of it. I was ready to dump Berry in the garbage when Frankie came and -"

"Ah, well maybe there's the problem, Goo", he interrupted. "You lost your temper and made Frankie uneasy. Let me talk calmly to her. I'm sure I can reason with her."

Goo shrugged. "Be my guest", she said, doubtful.

Ten minutes later:

"Oh yeah? Well, maybe I WILL quit!" Mac shouted, slamming the door, few seconds before he ran into his old imaginary friend:

"Oh, there you are Mac."

"Hi, Bloo."

"Can you help me out? I thought I heard someone calling out my name. It's was a girl's voice, but it wasn't angry enough to be Frankie's."

"Mm-hm."

"So…do you know who it was?"

Mac sighed. "Do you remember Heather?"

"Yeah, she was a good kid. What about her?"

"H-I-I-I, Bloo!"

"Oh hi, Heather."

"MY NAME IS BERRY!!"

* * *

_They'll get over it_, Frankie thought to herself as Mac slammed the door. The business of Berry was taken care of, for the moment. Right now, she had other priorities - Like reading the mail that had been lying in her office since yesterday. First of all, she was going to satisfy her curiosity and see what this "Imaginary Parents" groups was all about. She opened the letter. It was short and to the point.

Ms. Frances Foster,

I'm writing to you on behalf of an interest group named Imaginary Parents. The purpose of our group is to help childless adults adopting imaginary friends as an alternative to having children of their own.

Unfortunately, Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends have never been very helpful in these matters, as you have a rule against letting childless adults adopts Imaginary friends. On several occasions, we have asked the home's administrative leader, Mr. Herriman Foster, if he would consider removing this rule, or at least soften it up a little. He has refused to consider this, and he has also refused to have a formal meeting with us, on the grounds that, in his own words, "there is nothing to discuss". We understand that you have now taken over Herriman Foster's position, and are hoping that unlike your predecessor, you will at least accept an invitation to meet with our group, so we can discuss this matter. I can assure you that Imaginary Parents is a very serious organization. To become a member, you must prove that you have a clean record and a steady income. The majority of our members are couples who have been trying hard to get children of their own for years. We understand you and your predecessor's concerns for the safety of Imaginary Friends, but we want to prove to you that our members are decent people who only have the best intentions.

To reply, please contact me directly. My phone number, address and e-mail is stated below. We hope for, and are looking forward to, a future cooperation with you great institution.

On behalf of Imaginary Parents,

Eric Johnstone

_Okay, I didn't see _that _coming,_ Frankie admitted to herself. Mr. Herriman had never mentioned anything about a group called Imaginary Parents. Of course, she wouldn't have expected him too, because he'd always been taking care of business like that alone. Still, if this group had tried to contact him several times, it was strange that she had never heard about them before.

Upon taking over Foster's Home, Frankie had removed several of Mr. Herriman's rules that she considered redundant or unreasonable, but she'd let that one stay. The infamous "Li'l Lincoln" had removed this rule when he took over Foster's, and they all remembered how _that_ went. The home could not guarantee that imaginary friends wouldn't be abused or exploited when they were adopted (then again, imaginary friends had no guarantee against being abused or exploited in their creator's homes, either). But by adopting Friends only to families with children, they felt a little more secure that the Friend would be looked upon as a playmate rather than a servant.

But at least she was going to do one thing that Mr. Herriman had refused to: She was going to meet these people and hear them out. Maybe they had some useful ideas. _Better not seem too enthusiastic, though, _she decided._ I'll e-mail this Johnstone guy and suggest a meeting sometime next week…_ Frankie's train of thought was distracted by outside noise. She went out of the office to see where the loud voices were coming from.

"But me and my baby just wanted to chill out in the living room for a little while." That was Jackie Khones' voice.

"I don't care! Bloo and I want this place to ourselves right now, and we want to be alone" Guess whose voice…

"But Bloo isn't even here.", a girly voice objected. It was Fluffer Nutter's

"He'll be here in a moment. Now scram!"

"Don't you talk to me like that! You want a piece of me?"

"Good idea."

"What's that you got in your…Uh oh, WILT! I think this dame is about to go over the edge!"

"What dame - _Berry!_ The tenants aren't allowed to carry knives in the house! Except in the kitchen, of course. Give me that! Uh, please"

"Come and take it!"

"Uh… er… MAC! A little help here, please?"

"Don't look at me. Frankie says I never have to go anywhere near Berry."

"FRANKIE! A little help here, please?"

"Hi Heather, what was it that was it that was so important that you had to meet me in the living room in ten minutes?

"MY NAME IS BERRY!"

Sighing, Frankie hurried down the stairs. _I'm not getting paid enough for this,_ she thought. _- Even though _I'm_ now the one who decides how much I'm getting paid._

"What is this hullabaloo all about?" Mr. Herriman asked her, looking confusedly around. "Is someone watching an episode of _The Loved And The Loveless_?

"No," Frankie replied dryly "they're _living _in one!"

* * *

Next episode: We learn more about Imaginary Parents. Aaand the return of another infamous Friend.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	8. The Doctor Will See You Now

**Chapter Eight:**

For their meeting with Frankie, Imaginary Parents had rented a hall in a downtown conference centre, and attendance was good. There were nearly three dozen members present, and like Frankie had been expecting, they were mostly middle-aged couples and older ladies.

As it turned out, the IP did have a specific idea as to how Foster's Home could allow childless adults to adopt Imaginary Friends without compromising on its integrity. It was even a workable idea, Frankie reasoned, if she pulled a few strings. But she didn't want to tell them that just yet.

What intrigued her most about Imaginary Parents, other than their plan, was their spokesman. Unlike most of the groups' members, Eric Johnstone wasn't middle-aged or older. He was a tall, well-dressed man with brown hair, and looked like he was around thirty. Also, he didn't seem to have brought a spouse. He had a soft, soothing voice, and Frankie began to suspect that might have been the reason why he was the group's spokesman.

After the meeting was finished off with Frankie giving the IP vague, but sincere-sounding promises that she would see what she could arrange, and that she would give them feedback soon, she was apprehended personally by said Johnstone:

"Excuse me, Miss Foster? First of all I'd just like to thank you for agreeing to meet us for a constructive dialogue."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Johnstone. And like I said, I'll get back to your group in about a week."

"Yes, that's all good and well, but if I may be so forward… I would like to request a private meeting with you. I feel there are certain details that need to be discussed under four eyes."

Frankie shrugged. "I see. Well, feel free to drop by my office one of these days."

"Your office?" The man looked a bit puzzled, as if that was not quite the suggestion he was hoping for. "Yes, that'll do nicely.", he added uncertainly. "Is Tuesday at eight P.M. okay?"

"That late? Oh well, I live there, so it's no problem. Although I don't see what you need to discuss that couldn't have been brought up during the meeting we just had."

Johnstone smiled. "To tell, the truth, what I want to talk to you about doesn't have anything to do with the IP directly." He picked something out of his pocket, and handed it to Frankie. "This might give you a hint, ma'am. My card."

"Eric Johnstone, Imaginary Friend psychiatrist.", Frankie read. "What the…? Okay, Doctor Johnstone, you've piqued my curiosity. Just one more question…"

"Anything."

"Aren't you a bit too young to be a member of a group like Imaginary Parents? I mean, have you and your wife really tried everything to have children of your own?"

"Actually, ma'am, I'm not married. The IP asked me to be their spokesman, but my primary interest in Imaginary Friends lies in another field. But I'd like to get back to that on Tuesday, if it's okay with you."

"Y… yes… that's fine with me.", Frankie replied, hoping that the man hadn't noticed how interested she suddenly became the moment he revealed that he wasn't married.

***

When Frankie got home, her head was filled with so many different and complicated thoughts that she completely failed to notice a creature that was standing right beside her until it cried out:

"HEY, LADY!!"

After jumping nearly two feet into he air from the sheer surprise, the startled Frankie looked down and finally noticed...

"Cheese…?"

"Where's my horsie?" the short, yellow Imaginary wheezed.

"Wilt!", Frankie shouted. She could see the caretaker come walking down the stairs.

"Oh, there you are Cheese!", the tall red Imaginary exclaimed.

"The real question is, _why_ is he there? I mean, here? What is Cheese doing back already?", Frankie demanded.

"Well, it's a long story…"

"There's my horsie!"

"I thought he was adopted just a few months ago"

"Yes, by the McDonnell's."

"Barup, barup, barup, barup..."

"Did they run tired of him already?"

"No, I called them, and apparently, the problem is that he simply walked out on his own this morning.", Wilt explained. "That happened a lot when he was living with Louise too, I'm sure you remember…"

"Do I ever! Only… aren't the McDonnell's living in another town?"

"That is correct."

"So how did Cheese get here?"

"A fair question. Goo's been interrogating him about it - That's the word she was using anyway, interrogating. And… apparently, he simply hopped on a bus."

Knowing Cheese, Frankie realized that this was a perfectly plausible explanation. "Well, in that case, I'll just buy him a return ticket so he can get back home…"

Wilt shrugged "I already called the McDonnell's and suggested that, but they're afraid he'll get lost. So they were wondering if we could just keep him here until they come to pick him up - on Saturday."

Frankie sighed. If she had made that call the McDonnell's, she probably would've argued that if Cheese's instincts were good enough to lead him back to Foster's, even when he was living in another town, they should be good enough to lead him back home. But the costumer is always right...

"Okay, I'm sure we can manage until Saturday.", she concluded. "I got more important business to deal with nowadays, anyway."

"Barup, barup, barup...."

***

It was Tuesday, three minutes to eight in the evening. Frankie quickly took another peek out of one of the windows in the hallway. Bingo.

She turned around and prepared to go upstairs when she ran into Goo:

"So what's the occasion, Frankie?", the assistant caretaker asked, studying Frankie's outfit.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you usually only wear that formal attire when you're going to meet the media or some potential sponsors or some actual sponsors or city hall or sometimes on adopt-a-thought-Saturday when the weather is nice and you're expecting a lot of guests…. Well, okay that's a _lot_ of different occasions, but the point is, I've never seen you wear it on an ordinary weekday evening when you're at home. Unless you're going out for some reason… Heeey, I bet that's it! You're going out on a date, right? Well, about time! I don't think you've even been on a date since you took over this place. Good for you! Uh, good for you that you're going out on a date, that is. Not good for you that you've never even been on a date since you took over Foster's. That's not good for you. Unless that's your choice, of course…"

Frankie waved her hands frantically, a gesture that Goo correctly interpreted as a request for her to shut up.

"I'm not going on a date, Goo! I'm not even going out. But I'm expecting a guest any minute now."

The door rang.

"That'll be him. Escort him to my office please", Frankie just had time to say before she hurried up the stairs.

"And you can't escort him to the office yourself, even though you were standing a mere twenty feet from the door when the bell rang, _because_....?" Goo sneered, but Frankie was already out of hearing range.

"Fine, I'll play the butler this one time, but only because I'm curious what this is about." Goo muttered to herself before she opened the front door and greeted Dr. Eric Johnstone.

Frankie got seated behind her desk and grabbed a newspaper. When Goo led Johnstone into the office, Frankie had her face buried halfway into the paper, and pretended to barely notice that he had arrived.

"Ahem, Miss Foster?". Dr. Johnstone carefully

"Ah, Dr. Johnstone, sorry, I didn't notice you were coming in.", she replied, putting down the newspaper. "Please take a seat."

The relatively young, self-proclaimed Imaginary Friend psychiatrist got a chair and tried to make himself comfortable, although he looked slightly nervous about the whole set-up, to Frankie's slight amusement.

Goo left, and closed the door behind her.

"So" she said while giving him a firm, but friendly look. "Imaginary Friend psychiatrist, huh?"

The man shrugged. "To tell the truth, it's a fairly new branch…"

"It has to be." Frankie commented "I took the liberty of googling the term 'Imaginary Friend psychiatry', and the only thing I found was a thesis, written by you."

"So did you read it?", he asked hopefully.

Frankie, who had read the whole thing as soon as she got home from her meeting with Imaginary Parents, shrugged and replied:

"Well, I read parts of it. Running Foster's is keeping me very busy, after all."

"I understand. Well, I kind of got the idea from two scientists, Douglas Terry and Adam Pratchett. You know them?"

Frankie gave out a frustrated sigh at the mention of Douglas and Adam, the two colossally geeky science students who had once adopted Coco, and who were smitten with her, Frankie, for a quite a while. For many years, they paid regular visits to Foster's and often tried, but failed completely, to have a continuous chat with her. In fairness, their visits were justified, since they were doing research for their biology projects. Their goal was to have the biology of Imaginary Friends defined as a scientific genre of its own, and eventually, they did in fact accomplish this.

"Vaguely…" she responded.

"Because they sure seemed to know you very well.", Johnstone pointed out. Noticing that the mention of Douglas and Adam did not seem to bring back very fond memories with Frankie, he hurriedly got back to the subject: "I met them at a college conference three years ago. They were doing a lecture on figmentology, the biology of Imaginary Friends. But what surprised me was that they claimed to have invented figmentology."

"Yeah, I heard about it", Frankie commented, and picked a book out of the shelf next to her desk. It was _Defining Figmentology_ , Douglas and Adam's first published book on the subject. Four years ago, when they had figmentology down to a science, they sent Foster's a copy. Frankie hadn't read much of it, although she knew she ought to, now that she was in charge. They might have found out something about Imaginary Friends that could be useful for her to know. He handed it to Johnstone, who began to study it with mild interest.

"I talked with them after the lecture because I was surprised to learn that the science of Imaginary Friends biology had been defined so recently", Eric explained while flipping through the book. "And it occurred to me that if the biology of Imaginary Friends had not been defined until recently, then maybe the psychiatry of Imaginary Friends had yet to be defined."

"Ah, I see…"

"So I thought, here's my chance to be a pioneer in a special field of psychiatry!"

"Well, I –" Frankie hesitated. She was about to ask Johnstone if he really believed that the psyche of Imaginary Friends were that different from human psyche, and if it really would take some kind of specialist to understand it. Even after having read his thesis, she wasn't entirely convinced. But then she thought about all the Imaginaries that had given her grief over the years - Bloo, Duchess, Mr. Herriman, Cheese, _****ing Goofball!!!_ - and all the Imaginaries whose mental stability she had seriously questioned over the years - Coco, Berry, Cheese again - and decided that maybe this was something she really ought to encourage…

"Yes…?" he responded uncertainly.

" – I think it's a great idea, Dr. Johnstone! Is there anything we can do to help you?"

"Ah, well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You see, I've gotten a scholarship to further study Imaginary Friends, but I got it on the condition that I moved to this city. The thing is, while there are many other homes for Imaginary Friends throughout the country, none of them are anywhere near as big as this one. Foster's is the mother lode, so to speak."

He paused

"Besides, the two figmentology professors heavily recommended me to go here" Eric added, giving Frankie a sheepish grin that was eerily similar to the ones that Douglas and Adam had used to give her. But somehow, that grin didn't look quite as creepy coming from him. He regained himself quickly. "So anyway", he said in a more professional voice, "I need to do some field studies, and so I'd like to ask you, Madame Foster, if…uh…"

"...If it's okay that you become a regular house guest?"

The psychiatrist merely nodded. Frankie leaned back in her chair.

"Well, we allowed Douglas and Adams to do field studies, so it's only fair that you get the same opportunity. Foster's won't stand in the way of medical science doing progress. You're welcome at Foster's anytime you like, Doctor! Uh… provided you always call me or text me in advance. I need to know when… uh, what's going on."

"As you wish, Madame Foster. And thank you!"

"If you actually manage to help some of our residents in the process, I'm the one who owe you thanks, Doctor. And I suggest you start your psychoanalyzing alphabetically. 'B', 'C' and 'D' should provide you with some real challenges."

The man gave her a confused look. "You'll understand what I mean soon enough, Doctor", Frankie added.

The psychiatrist smiled. "Please… call me Eric"

"Okay, Eric, then you can call me Frankie"

"Frankie? But in the papers, it's always…"

"I never liked the name Frances. My friends call me Frankie"

Eric got up. "Frankie it is, then. I'll be looking forward to see…." He interrupted himself, and gave Frankie an embarrassed smile - I'll be looking forward to see more of your great institution.", he emphasized.

Frankie returned his smile. "We can start already now. Would you like me to give you the tour?"

"Uh, the tour?"

"The tour of the house, obviously"

"Oh, of course! Yes, gladly!"

It was a little past nine o'clock when Frankie finally escorted the world's first Imaginary Friend psychiatrist out the front door with yet another assurance that she and Foster's were looking forward to working with him. As she closed the door, she smiled brightly. However, her smile stiffened as she noticed that Goo was standing behind her, grinning.

"Euh, Doc-teur Johnst-euhn" Goo said mockingly with an exaggerated "theatre diva" voice, while waving her hands nonchalantly "I didn't neuh-tice you were coming eeen!"

"I didn't say it in that stupid accent" Frankie said irritably.

"Look at me, I'm too important to open doors!" Goo continued (although she wasn't using the accent anymore) "I've got people doing it for me! Aren't you impressed, Dr. Johnstone?"

This, of course, wasn't making Frankie any less irritable. "What's your beef anyway?" she growled.

"A better question might be: What's your beef, Frankie?" Goo paused momentarily. She suddenly seemed to be in a better mood. "Or _who_…"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about" Frankie firmly continued.

"And I'm sure you have plenty idea what I'm talking about", Goo replied defiantly. "Come on, Frankie, are you really gonna waste time beating around the bush? He's cute, he's got a promising career, and you've got at least one important thing in common. Okay, so he was acting a bit awkward, but that was sorta cute too – "

"One: have you been eavesdropping?" Frankie interrupted her while frowning. "And two: are we still talking about Dr. Johnstone?"

"Oooh, he's not "Eric" after all?" Goo taunted, ignoring Frankie's first question.

"He's Dr. Johnstone _to you_", Frankie said firmly. "Believe what you want, Goo, but _Dr. Johnstone_ and I have a purely professional relationship. In any case, I don't see why it's any of your business who I choose to date or not to date."

"Of course it's any of my business." Goo replied in a more serious voice. "I'm your friend, Frankie, I don't want to see you get hurt!"

"I'm a grown woman, I think I can trust my own judgement."

"Sure, like you trusted your own judgement when it came to Dylan!"

There was a moment of awkward silence, and for the first time during this conversation, Goo looked a little nervous, as if she was wondering if she had just crossed a line that shouldn't be crossed.

Then Frankie smirked.

"So…Mac has told you about Dylan, has he?"

Goo nodded, still a little uncertain.

"And did he also tell you that the reason he was stalking me on that particular date, was that he had a major crush on me?"

Goo's eyes widened. "No!" she snarled "He didn't!!"

The suddenly very angry look on Goo's face made Frankie realize that her attempt to distract Goo's attention might have been too effective…

"Whoa Goo, calm down! He was only eight years old at the time, after all."

"Oh yeah, that's right…" Goo muttered, looking almost disappointed that the opportunity to have a fit of righteous, jealous anger had been taken away from her so quickly.

"It was a harmless schoolboy crush,", Frankie continued, "and he probably thought I didn't notice. Heck, even _Bloo_ had a crush on me back then!"

_"SAY WHAT??"_

Goo and Frankie both looked up the stairs. A small, pink blob that was running while shouting _"Bloo, you two-timing, cheating…"_

"I didn't even know Berry was listening…"

"Me neither. But at least she's taking it out on Bloo rather than you."

"Cold comfort. I still have to go between them" Frankie sighed and began walking up the stairs.

"Dr. Johnstone's got his work cut out for him if he wants to try and psychoanalyze the Friends in this house, huh?" Goo commented.

Frankie turned around and gave her employee a weak smile. "On second thought, it's okay for you to call him Eric."

***

Thursday, at noon, Goo suddenly heard a crashing noise from the entrance hall while she was carrying laundry up from the basement. She put down the laundry basket and ran towards the direction of the sound. From a distance, she thought she noticed a familiar figure:

"Cheese? Is that you again?"

She came closer.

"Oh wait you're not Cheese."

"Well, duh!" the figure responded.

"You look a bit like him, though. What's your name, little fella?"

The figure just stared at her for a moment.

"You don't know who I am?"

"Can't say I recognize you, no. I'm pretty sure you're not one of my own creations, anyway…" Goo turned her head just too late to notice that the figure was now grinning. She had suddenly noticed where the crashing noise came from:

"The Foster family's antique mantel clock!" she gasped. Then she caught sight of a short, pink elephant that was standing right next to the broken object.

"Clumsy!" she shouted, "I thought Mr. Herriman and Frankie had told you a million times not to go near that clock!"

"I didn't do it!" Clumsy protested. "I had just opened the front door and let this new guy in – " he pointed in the direction of the figure "- and then he just went right over to the clock and threw it on the floor!"

"What?" The figure gave Goo a terrified look. "No, miss, I didn't do it, you must believe me!" he said desperately. "I wasn't anywhere near that fine antique! I was just looking around for a moment, when I heard a crashing noise. And when I turned around, the clock was already in pieces on the floor and that elephant guy was giving me a malicious grin! Please lady, I'm completely new here, I wouldn't dare to do something like that! But I suppose it's always easy to blame everything on the new guy..." he said, his voice trembling. Then he grabbed Goo's blouse and started to sob loudly.

"Whoa, easy there!" Goo muttered. Not surprisingly, she was feeling more than a little bit uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Look, I'll go get the caretaker, and then we'll sort this out."

The figure stopped crying as soon as he had begun.

"Uh, surely there's no need to bother Frankie with this?" he said nervously

"Actually, Frankie is not the caretaker anymore", Goo pointed out.

"She… she's not? Oh, very well, let's have a word with the new caretaker.", the figure said with sudden confidence.

Giving the mysterious new guy a confused look, Goo turned and ran up the stairs.

About a minute later…

_"… and then this new guy got all panicky and started to cry. Anyway they're both saying they didn't do it."_

_"… Well, if the description you just gave me of the new guy fits, I think I know exactly who did it..."_

This time, the figure looked _really_ terrified.

"Wilt?" he "_You're_ the new caretaker? Aw nuts...!"

Wilt was rarely angry. But those who had the opportunity to see him right now would be witnesses to this unusual phenomenon.

"Hello..." he said with a dark, foreboding voice. "..._Bendy_!"

* * *

A/N: Well, I finally finished this chapter. It took me longer than I expected, partly because november has been a very busy month, and partly because I had to add a lot of new details to make it work properly. Chapter nine should be up sooner, especially because I got that whole chapter pretty much finished in my head already.

This big deal in this chapter is of course the debut of my first Foster's Home OC, Eric Johnstone, who we'll be seeing more of in chapter ten. I've been trying to avoid using OC's but the plot was beginning to require something like that. I only hope I can make him work. Tell me what you think, please!

NEXT: Eduardo becomes a rebel, and Mac reveals new details about his family!


	9. Room With Ado

**Chapter nine**

"Goo, I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"When I saw Bendy again after all these years, I suddenly realized I had all this pent-up frustration over him that I'd like to have vented out.", Wilt explained. "And at that moment, I really wanted to throw him out. Just throw him as far away as my good arm could manage, then lock the entrance door and hope that Frankie never even notice that he was here."

"It probably wouldn't have worked. He would've kept on ringing the doorbell or knocking until Frankie noticed" , Goo pointed out. "Or he would've done like Berry threatened to do", she added glumly "Gone to the media and cried his heart out until they made a newsstory out of it. "

"I know", Wilt replied "But I wanted to try it anyway. At the moment I saw Bendy, I suddenly wanted to be very mean – and unprofessional. I'm sorry!"

"Ho-kay, but why are you apologizing to _me_?", Goo asked, and added in her mind: _After all,_ I_ not only_ thought_ about throwing Berry out, I actually tried to _do_ it._

Wilt clenched his fist. "Because I sure as hell… heck don't want to apologize to Bendy! And not to Frankie either!"

"Speak of the devil…" Goo commented, as they saw Bendy coming out of Frankie's office.

The little, yellow Imaginary turned his head and looked at the two caretakers for a few seconds. Then he gave them one of his mischievous trademark grins, and walked away.

Goo shrugged. "Well, didn't he look pleased!"

"_Too_ pleased. Let's have a little talk with Frankie…" Wilt growled, knocking on the door.

"Come in! Oh, hi Wilt. I was just talking to Bendy…"

"Uh huh. And what did he say? Did he convince you that I'm responsible for global warming? And cried until you believed him?"

"Wilt, don't be like that, please", Frankie sighed. "It was ages ago! I said I was sorry, and so did Mr. Herriman."

"Technically, Mr. Herriman only said that he was wrong", Wilt pointed out. "But then, that's usually as close as he gets to say he's sorry. "

Frankie nodded. In retrospect, she was fittingly embarrassed by the fact that Bendy fooled her so many times. Ultimately, it was Mr. Herrimans's responsibility back then, but she wasn't exactly helping. Besides, Mr. Herriman was retired now. The decisions were hers to make now, and she had just made a decision about Bendy that wasn't going to be very popular. But she was going to be strong...

"So what did you say to Bendy, then?" Wilt asked his boss, still somewhat suspicious.

"_For your information,_ I told him he'd better behave, and warned him against trying any of his old tricks. And then I assigned him to a room."

"What room?" Wilt asked, still suspicious.

Frankie repressed a frustrated groan. She really didn't want to tell this to Wilt, not right away. But since he asked her outright…

"If you must know", she said slowly "I'm putting him in room 303."

Wilt thought about this for a moment. Then he said:

"But that's Eduardo and Bloo's room!"

Frankie decided to skip the apologies and go straight to the explanation.

"I know it's Eduardo and Bloo's room, but I also know that it's the biggest bedroom in the house. Now that you have your own room, and Coco shares a room with Eurotrish, it's a waste of space to only have two people in there! Bendy is a little guy, there's plenty of room for him in addition to those two."

"And that's why you're putting Bendy in the same room as Eduardo and Bloo."

"That's why I'm putting Bendy in the room where Eduardo and Bloo _happen to live_. Look, we have no available bedrooms at the moment. All new Imaginaries will have to share a bedroom with someone, and there are already four people living together in many of the rooms. It just so happens that even before Bendy arrived I was planning on putting the next new Imaginary in room 303, no matter who it was."

Wilt crossed his arms - or at least tried to – and said as firmly as he could:

"And you refuse to change your plans even though we're talking about Bendy here? After all the times you let Eduardo and Bloo take the blame for something _he _did…"

"Wilt, how many times do I have to tell you? I've learned my lesson!" Frankie snapped "If Bloo and Eduardo gets into trouble and they say Bendy did it, I'm not going to call them liars and punish them just because Bendy sobs a little. Sheesh! Bendy is a one-trick pony, and everyone knows the trick by now! He no longer poses a threat to anyone!"

"But you know the history they have together. To make Bloo and Eduardo sleep in the same room as a guy they can't stand… that's just not fair!"

"Wilt, has it ever occurred to you that I'm doing this to punish Bendy? Now he's stuck in a room with to Imaginaries who are mad at him"

Wilt shrugged uneasily. "I'm sorry Frankie, but I don't think Bloo and Eduardo feel that way. I still think this is a bad idea."

"Are you going to quit your job over this?"

"Of course not, but…"

"Well, the decision has been made", Frankie cut him off. "And now I'm sure we all got work to do.", she added firmly, making it clear that the discussion was over. Then she bundled out Wilt and Goo.

***

"Wilt, can I speak freely?" Goo asked her superior in the hallway.

"You always have permission to speak freely, Goo. Why?"

"If you mean why as in why am I asking for permission, then the answer is: Because what I want to tell you is pretty rude. If you mean why as in what exactly it is I want to tell you, the answer is: Wilt, you are an idiot!"

"I see. That was pretty rude, all right. And why am I, in your opinion, an idiot?"

"Because Frankie just gave you a chance to stop her decision, practically on a silver platter, and you refused it! You should have told her: Yes, I will quit!"

"But I don't want to quit!"

"You wouldn't have to! Frankie would have given in! There's no way she would've taken the chance of you quitting, she needs you to be the caretaker more than you need to be the caretaker!"

Wilt seemed to ponder at this for a few seconds. "I didn't think of that. You're probably right, and that would have been easier…"

"Darn right…! Uh, easier than _what?_"

"But if I go back in there now and tell Frankie that I've changed my mind – That'll just seem silly. And awkward. No, I think we'll go with my original plan."

"_What_ plan?" Goo asked, visibly confused.

Wilt gave his assistant an uncharacteristically clever smile.

"I'll admit that I didn't think of everything, but I may not be as much of an idiot as you think, Goo." He turned around and added smugly: "Don't be surprised if I suddenly decide to have an emergency in-house meeting ths afternoon, while Frankie is out shopping…"

­­­­­­­­­­­­

* * *

_A/N, PLEASE READ: Some of you might've noticed that this chapter is shorter than most of the previous ones. Actually, it was going to be four times longer than this, but writing it all was taking so much time and in the meantime, I was afraid that some of my readers might lose interest or get tired of waiting. So I've decided that from now on, I'm going to split my story into shorter chapters. In return, they will be updated much more frequently. Chapter ten will be up next week._


	10. Everyone Knows It’s Civil Disobedience

**Chapter ten: Everyone Knows It's Civil Disobedience**

Frankie had only just entered her office this Friday morning when she got a phone from Goo, calling in sick. She had been looking healthy enough last night, but what the hey. In all the time she had been working for Foster's as a paid employee, Goo had never taken a sick day yet. She was entitled to have one without Frankie getting too suspicious.

However, this meant that Wilt would have to do some of the chores set aside for Goo today. She went through the list of high-priority chores. On top of it was cleaning up one of the bathrooms after last night's toilet paper war between Bloo, Coco and Scrappy. Then came the mess that Eurotrish and Fluffer Nutter had made in the kitchen when they were baking (or actually, _trying_ to bake) cookies last night. Then the curtains that Frit and Frat had torn up when they were playing Tarzan…Man, she could've sworn that the imaginaries were deliberately tried to behave extra badly last night.

Frankie turned on the caller: "_Wilt, please come to my office right away_"

She waited for five minutes.

Then ten.

After fifteen minutes, she was getting restless. What was the matter with Wilt? This wasn't like him. As she walked out of her office, Frankie noticed that there were very few Friends to be seen anywhere. Which was odd, because the hallways were usually buzzing with life by now. After looking around for a minute, she finally caught sight of a familiar asparagus-shaped (and ditto colored) Imaginary.

"Jackie, have you seen Wilt today?"

"Ah, yes, he's in the attic"

"What's he doing there?"

"Cleaning up"

_I didn't ask him to clean up the attic, _Frankie thought._ But it wouldn't be the first time Wilt has taken the initiative to clean things up, bless him. _But right now she needed him down here. Why wasn't he coming down? Surely he could hear the caller in the attic as well?_ I'd better go up and have a look_...

***

If Frankie had left her office a few minutes earlier, she might have been witness to Eduardo, the big, purple monster Imaginary Friend being pushed across the floor by two smaller Imaginaries, both of whom wore oversized caps.

"I… I don't think I can do it!" Eduardo objected nervously.

"But you promeesed! You canna back out now, Caro!", Eurotrish said.

"Yeah, everyone's countin' on ya, Eddie!", Scrappy exclaimed.

"Besides, you of all people should want to stand up against Madame! After all, she is putting that _canaglia giallo_ in your room!"

"Yeah Eddie, this is _peisonal_!

The two cap-weares somehow managed to stack the worried Eduardo up in front of the elevator. Then Scrappy ran back to one corner of the hallway.

Eurotrish looked the big, purple Imaginary straight in the eyes. "Now Caro, you now what to do, right?"

"Uh… nothing?

"That's right, you just stand right here and…"

"She's a-comin'!" Scrappy shouted, while running towards them.

"Right, this is it, then!", Eurotrish said quickly. Then she blew Eduardo a kiss as she and Scrappy ran to the other end of the corridor and hid behind a corner there.

As Frankie came walking round the corner, she still wasn't suspecting anything. She stopped right in front next to Eduardo.

"Uh, Eduardo? You're standing in front of the elevator."

The big purple Friend didn't say anything, and didn't move. Frankie looked a little puzzled, but she knew that the big guy could sometimes be a little slow on the uptake.

"And… I need to use the elevator. So could you please move over?" she continued, patiently.

Eduardo stood still.

"Eduardo…" she said, a little less patiently. "I said I need to use the elevator. But I can't use it as long as you're standing in front of it. Please move!"

Eduardo tried to avoid her stare, but didn't move.

"Eduardo" Frankie said, with obvious impatience, "Move away from the elevator!"

Still no reaction. Frankie gritted her teeth.

"EDUARDO!!" she shouted "GET OUT OF THE WAY!!!"

Eduardo was sweating hard, but he didn't move, much to Frankie's surprise. She thought that last outburst would've done the trick.

She took a deep breath. "Fine!" she said and walked away, stomping her feet. "Sooner or later, I'll find out what this is all about…!"

As soon as Frankie was out of sight, Trish and Scrappy came running up to Eduardo, who remained standing still by the elevator.

"You deed it, Caro, you deed it!" Trish exclaimed as she hugged the purple Friend..

"I'm so proud of ya, Eddie!" Scrappy cheered "You didn't move an inch, no matter how much Frankie… uh, Eddie? Are you awright?"

Both Friends noticed that they weren't getting any sort of reaction from the big guy. Eurotrish looked at Edurado's eyes. They were glassy.

"Uh-oh, watch out, bambino!" She said, hurriedly, pulling Scrappy out of the way "I think he's gonna…"

WHAM!!

"… faint"

***

Frankie now tried to take the elevator from the third floor, but One-Eyed Cy was blocking it. And just like Eduardo, he didn't move nor talk, no matter what she said to him. Before she reached the fourth floor – only to find Jambalaya blocking the elevator door there – she knew the Imaginaries were plotting something. Before she reached the fifth floor - only to find Mr. Edmonton blocking the elevator door there (how many oversized Friends did they have at Foster's anyway? Weren't any of them ever adopted?) – she suspected that even if she made it to the attic, she wouldn't find Wilt there. Nevertheless, she walked up all the stairs and looked around in the attic. Wilt was nowhere to be seen. But at least now she could honestly say that she had tried to find him there, in case there would be a confrontation. And she had a feeling that there would be one.

When she came back down, she discovered that the friends had somehow managed to get themselves breakfast while she was busy walking up and down the stairs and checking out the attic. The dining hall, which was currently a mess of crumbs, dirty plates and glasses, half-emptied cereal bowls, egg yolks and coffee stains, was empty. Whose turn was it to clean up the dining hall after breakfast today? Frankie went into the hall to have a look the Fair Chores List. Someone had removed it.

After helping herself to a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, Frankie began cleaning the table. Then she cleaned up the bathrooms. Then she cleaned up the kitchen, which was now looking even worse than the night before. Then she replaced the curtains. She couldn't help but noticing that everywhere she went, every room and corridor was mysteriously empty. This shouldn't be possible; there were hundreds of friends in the house. How did Wilt manage to organize this? She was certain that he was behind all of it, and she was even more certain that she knew the reason why.

But no Wilt, no Goo, no Fair Chores List and no Friends who could be found even if she had the list, meant she had to do all the housework herself today. And there was plenty to do, because although she hardly ever saw any of the Imaginaries, they were definitely in the house. She could tell because they left a mess everywhere – on the floor, on the bathrooms, in the kitchen and in the dining halls. She didn't go shopping, though. She didn't dare to. If the Imaginaries managed to make a mess like this while she was still in the house, what would they do if she left, even if it was just for half an hour or so? _I can't believe I used to do all this work by myself, every day_, Frankie thought. She did not miss being Foster's caretaker, that was for sure. It was good being a boss. Not _today,_ of course. But usually, it was

Day turned into evening. The weary and exhausted Frankie noticed that it was nearly six thirty, and time for another important chore: Getting the toddler Friends to bed. However, as she was about to enter the nursery, she couldn't help but overhearing a familiar voice from inside:

"_And then she shouted: 'Move away!' But I didn't move an inch!_"

There was a choir of "Oooohs" and "whoas" coming from the toddlers.

Eduardo! Was he…?

"_And now Madame Foster was really mad, and she yelled at my face 'GET OUT OF THE WAY , EDUARDO, GET OUT OF THE WAY!!'"_

Yes… He … Was! Frankie felt that she ought to be furious, but deep down, she reluctantly admired Eduardo just for having the sheer nerve to do this. Even from the other side of a closed door, the noise of the toddler friends screaming in terror and delight was overwhelming now.

"_But I didn't move! No matter how angry she got, I didn't move as much as an inch!"_

"_It's true! I saw the whole thing!"_

That was the voice of Scrappy, who had obviously come along as a witness.

And now the toddlers started chanting:

"_Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie"_

All right, time to break this up, Frankie thought, abruptly opening the door. The moment the toddlers saw her, they instantly piped down.

"Eduardo?" she said calmly "It's time to go."

Eduardo turned around and looked at her. And for a moment, the big purple Friend did indeed look like he was going to leave. But then he turned around again and remained standing still.

Frankie groaned to herself. She didn't mean to give him an order just now, but Eduardo seemed to think so. He probably thought she was testing him. And if she was, then he wasn't going to fail by walking away with his tail between his legs, not in front of all his little admirers. Frankie sighed deeply. For a moment she considered giving Eduardo and good and long yelling at. That would probably be more than he could take. He'd probably break down and cry and… and be completely humiliated in front of all his little friends, the same friends who right now regarded him as a great hero. No, she couldn't bring herself to do something so mean, not to Eduardo. Didn't he deserve his moment to shine, even at the cost of her authority? Frankie took a deep breath, and said, with the most polite voice she could muster:

"Eduardo, can you _please_ leave now so I can put the toddlers to bed?"

Eduardo smiled happily, nodded and said with a smug voice:

"Why of course, Madame Foster, but only because you asked me so nicely."

As on cue, the toddlers started chanting again:

"_Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Eddie"_

Frankie was beginning to have regrets already, and as Eduardo walked out the door, she gave him a fierce "_Just wait till we're both out of the nursery, you just WAIT_!" kind of look. Clearly, Eduardo took the signal, because he gulped, turned around one last time and said to the toddlers:

"Now be good kids and go to sleep when Madame Foster tells you to. There's no need for you to get into trouble because of _me_." For this, Frankie rewarded him with a slanted smile.

The toddlers did as they were told, and when Frankie left the nursery, only ten minutes later, she wasn't mad at Eduardo anymore. However, she was mad at pretty much everyone else, including herself.

_Especially _herself.

And she knew what had to be done. This was probably not how Mr. Herriman would've handled the situation, but then, why should she follow Mr. Herriman's example? As she walked down the corridors on the way to her office, she spotted Jackie Khones yet again.

"Jackie!" she cried "Could you tell Wilt that I want to talk to him in my office?"

Jackie turned around and said in his typically nonchalant voice:

"Well Frankie, I'm not entirely sure if I know where he is. But if you make me a BLT sandwich or two, maybe - "

Frankie grabbed the tiny, green Imaginary Friend and shook him vigorously.

"Don't push it, Khones! I'm not in the mood for these games anymore!" she sneered, and pressed Jackie against her face. "Now, I will tell you this as plainly and clearly as I can: GO… GET…WILT! NOW!!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!" Jackie responded nervously. Then he jumped down and and hurried across the floor.

Frankie walked into her office and sat down. All she could do right now, was wait. _I hope you've enjoyed you day off, Goo_, she thought.

* * *

That's what we'll find out in the next chapter. That, and much more! In the meantime, please remember to review!

If anyone wonders, "canaglia giallo" is Italian for "yellow scoundrel". And speaking about Bendy, we're getting back to him as well in the next chapter.


	11. Strategic Withdrawal

Eric Johnstone, the self-appointed World's First Imaginary Friend Psychiatrist, sat in his rented apartment downtown and went through his notes. Mostly, he had just written down the brief descriptions given to him by Frankie.

Apparently, Frankie wasn't kidding when she advised him to go by the alphabet if he wanted to face the big challenges right away:

_BERRY – Obsessive, possibly psychotic._

_BLOO – Inconsiderate, reckless, overblown ego_

_COCO – Unstable, reckless._

_DUCHESS – Arrogant, demanding and inconsiderate. Almost completely bereft of any social skills, and is showing no desire to learn any._

_EDUARDO – Easily startled. Constantly afraid.  
_

Eric underlined the name Coco. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the opportunity to meet the bird-plane-plant creature in person when he was given the tour of Foster's Home on Tuesday. But when he came by next week, Coco was the first Imaginary he wanted to talk to; "Talk" being the keyword. He found her interesting, not so much because of her behavior, but rather because of her way of communicating. Coco, according to descriptions, could not actually talk. She communicated by uttering "coco" repeatedly, and apparently, this gibberish was somehow understood by almost everyone she met. Eric's theory was that Coco mastered some sort of telepathy, and used this ability to make her endless stream of "coco"s turn into meaningful sentences in the minds of whoever she was talking to. It was odd, he thought, that Douglas and Adam weren't more curious about Coco's communication methods. After all, they were scientists, and they were her former owners. Okay, so they were biologists, but you'd think they'd be curious anyway.

Eric was momentarily distracted from his train of thought when he saw Frankie's assistant, Gunilla Gae (what was it everyone was calling her? Goo?) walking down the street outside his building. Wasn't she supposed to be at work now? Oh well, that was none of his business. Yet.

***

Although she knew she had been given a very sudden and very unofficial day off, Goo still woke up early. That was just as well. After all, she had agreed to call Frankie and tell her was sick, and it would've seemed suspicious if she didn't do that pretty early in the morning.

Pretty soon, she was beginning to feel restless. How was she going to spend this day? She didn't want to go out, in case she should happen to meet Frankie. So she decided to spend the day working on some of her art projects. The problem was that many of them would require so much space that she had to do them outside, in the garden. Suppose Frankie decided to drop by to see how she was doing? She couldn't take the risk. So she spent the day working on some of her smaller installations, in her own room.

Late in the afternoon, Goo was getting very restless. She wasn't used to staying inside all day, and it was driving her crazy. So when she got a phone call from Mac (who assured her that he already knew all about Wilt's plan), inviting her to come over and have a look at his vacation pictures, she decided to take the chance of being seen outdoors.

However, her visit to Mac didn't become the romantic evening Goo had been hoping for. First, Terrence was home (and once again, he had tried to sell her a used car). Second, Bloo was there, too (Mac had stopped hiding his visits to Bloo and Foster's years ago) – He was the one who had told Mac about Wilt's in-house action.

Third, Mac _did_ have vacation pictures to show her. They were taken during his visit to his dad in San Francisco. Which wasn't to say that Goo didn't find them quite interesting - Currently, she was studying a group photo of Mac standing next to a blonde boy about his height and age, an older and more muscular boy who was giving the blonde boy a nuggie, and an Asian boy with spiky hair – he also looked like he was about the same height and age as Mac – who was eyeing Bloo very suspiciously. That was probably because Bloo was waving a screwdriver at him, for some reason.

"Is he like your cousin or something?", Goo asked Mac, pointing at the blonde boy. Mac nodded. She was expecting him to ask how she guessed that, but as he didn't ask, she told him anyway: "I could tell from the head shape."

Mac rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, that's my cousin Tommy, and the big guy next to him is my other cousin – his brother Donnie. Tommy's taking after his mother, my dad's sister."

"Ah, so it's from that side of the family that you've inherited that square-ish head."

Mac sighed. "Look, Goo, I _know_ that the shape of my head is little weird! You didn't have to remind me of it two times in less than one minute!" he said, frustrated.

Goo blushed. "Sorry", she said, and hurried to change the subject. So who's that kid on the right, and why is Bloo is looking at him like that?"

"His name is Robert, and he's a friend of Tommy's.", Mac explained. "As for why Bloo is looking at him like that… well, you know how Bloo gets these weird ideas sometimes…"

"I was looking for his battery case." Bloo butted inn.

Goo stared at Bloo "Say what?"

"Robert's a robot!" Bloo declared.

Mac sighed. "Bloo, do we have to go over this again?"

"I'm telling ya, that kid is a robot!", Bloo stubbornly insisted "He's got a battery case up his ass, I saw it!"

Clearly, this was a discussion that Mac didn't want to have right now; he hurried to the next picture, which depicted Bloo having a pie eating contest with a fat red-haired kid. They were looking fiercely at each other.

"That's Tommy's best friend Gus. Bloo challenged him to an eating contest." Mac explained "Then he challenged him to a belching contest", he continued. "I'd rather not tell you what the third contest was…"

"Ugh, I get the picture" Goo muttered. "So how did it go?"

"Gus is a cheater", Bloo pouted

"Bloo lost every time", Mac answered.

"Not to mention a pompous, self-centered jerk!" Bloo continued.

Goo smiled. _It takes one to know one_, she thought.

"So your cousin's got a bullish older brother, and a best friend who's kind of a pain in the neck", Goo pointed out "It's uncanny how much the two got in common…"

Mac shrugged. "Well, if you think so, you're gonna love the next photo" he said, clicking on the keyboard. A picture of Tommy, holding his arms around an elegant-looking, black girl, appeared on the screen. "Her name is Lola", Mac added, pointing at the girl.

Goo studied the photo with interest.

"Is she and Tommy…?"

"Yes, they're dating."

"Whoa, like I said - Uncanny!"

"Oh, Lola doesn't really have that much in common with you" Mac pointed out.

"Yeah!" Bloo agreed "She's rich, good-looking and completely sane!" For that comment, Mac slapped him so hard that he fell flat on the floor.

"She's rich, all right", Mac confirmed "So rich that spent half the vacation trying to get her to adopt him."

"You've got to take me to meet your cousin and his friends sometime, Mac!"

"Next time Goo, promise." Mac said. "After all, I can't bring Bloo back anytime soon…" he added, smiling smugly to his imaginary friend.

"Stupid Robert and stupid Lola and their stupid restraining orders…" Bloo muttered.

Something suddenly occurred to Goo: "By the way, you said that you went to visit your dad?"

"That's right. So?"

"So it just occurred to me that I've never _seen_ your dad, neither in real life nor on pictures. Did you take any pictures of him? I'd really like to know what he looks like, 'cause you know what they say: If you want t know what a guy is gonna look twenty years from now, look at his father."

"My dad was thirty-three when I was born" Mac pointed out. Then he hesitated for a moment. "But sure, I'll find a picture of him", he said, while appearing to try and cover up the screen. "Just give me a minute to find a good one…"

Something suddenly seemed to be dawning upon Bloo. He grinned mischievously, then pushed Mac aside and hurriedly pushed a few buttons on the digital photo album. "Who needs a minute? Here's a good one, Goo!" he declared triumphantly. "It's of Mac's dad and aunt – both in full figure!"

"No, not that one…!" Mac said desperately, but it was too late. Goo was already studying the picture closely. Then she gasped, a little louder than necessary. Mac sighed, and Goo smiled sheepishly at him. "Gee, Mac that's… uh, I mean he's…. it's…"

"I think what Goo is trying to say, Mac -" Bloo commented smugly "- is that boy, does your dad - and your aunt - have _huge_ as-"

Mac gave his imaginary friend another solid slap; this one sent him halfway across the room. Then he turned to Goo with a resigned look.

"I know, I know" he sighed. "I stared too, the first time I saw dad and Aunt Debbie together. But I suppose there's a fifty percent chance I won't inherit that butt."

Goo gave him a friendly smile. "If it happens, it happens. Let's cross our fingers and hope that Terrance gets it instead. In the meantime…"

Goo pinched Mac in the butt, a gesture that Bloo would usually have been disgusted to be witnessing, but in this case, it made Mac blush so much that the blue Imaginary couldn't help but grinning.

"… I hope you don't mind if I make regular check-ups" she cooed, tilting her eyelids.

To Mac's relief, Goo's cell phone rang, causing a minor distraction. Goo looked at it.

"It's from Wilt. Good news, hopefully", she commented, and ran outside to take the call. "Be right back"

Bloo looked thoughtfully at the door, then at Mac and the family photo on the screen.

"Say, Mac…?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does Goo want to know what you're gonna look like twenty or thirty years from now, anyway?"

Mac blushed again. This time, Bloo didn't quite understand why.

TEN MINUTES EARLIER:

_I can't believe how easily I got into Mr. Herriman's mode_, Frankie thought to herself. _I made a hasty decision, and when Wilt argued against it, I refused to listen just because I wanted to show who's boss. And as a result, I've got a mutiny on my hands. A silent mutiny, but still._.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Come in."

Wilt opened the door.

"You wanted to see me, Frankie?"

"Yes, all day, actually."

Wilt shrugged. "I've been busy.", he replied with an affected innocent voice.

"Busy with what?"

"Important stuff."

"Stuff that's more important than doing your job?"

"Could be."

Frankie winced. She couldn't tell if Wilt was being spiteful or if he just had a poor imagination. Well, no point in making this even more embarrassing for the both of them.

"I've been thinking about it, and… and I've decided that putting Bendy in the big room was a mistake."

"Whatever you say, Frankie", Wilt responded with an even more affected innocent voice.

"However, we still need to make better use of room 303, so I've decided that Bendy and Bloppy Pants will exchange rooms. As of tonight, Bloppy Pants sleeps in the same room as Bloo and Eduardo."

"Fine by me", Wilt replied, trying to sound indifferent. But it was obvious that he was trying hard to repress a self-assured smile.

"And the _next_ small Imaginary Friend who comes to Foster's -" Frankie continued, "- will _also_ be put in room 303, because, like I said, it's the biggest bedroom in the house."

"Fair enough."

"So… can I expect to see Goo coming back to work tomorrow?"

Refusing to give up his act, Wilt shrugged and said innocently:  
"How should I know? I'm no doctor.

Frankie lowered her eyebrows.

"However…", the tall Imaginary added, "I _hear_ there's twenty-four hour virus going around, and I wouldn't be surprised if that's what Goo has caught. So there's probably a pretty good chance that's she's back to health by tomorrow."

Frankie nodded.

"Good to hear. "Well, I guess that will be - " She was interrupted by some heavy pounding on the door.

"Come in!"

It was Bendy

"Madame Foster!" he snivelled, "I've been locked in the basement all day! Someone dragged me down to the basement, strapped me to a chair and gagged me! I didn't get loose until just now!"

Frowning, Frankie looked at Wilt, but failed to read much out of his facial expression. He didn't look terribly surprised, but he didn't look nervous or guilty either.

"Who did it to you, Bendy?", Frankie asked the short, yellow Imaginary.

"I…I…well, I don't know. It happened so fast and they blindfolded me, too."

"Do you have any witnesses?"

"Well, I don't know…maybe someone saw it, but…"

"Well, if you don't know who the culprit is, and you haven't got any witnesses, then I'm afraid there's not much I can do about it, Bendy."

"But…this time it's true! I can show you…or at least I can find out who…well, maybe…"

Bendy hesitated. For a moment, he looked like he was about to cry, as usual, but then decided against it. With a deep sigh, he walked out of the office.

_Well, that could've gone a lot worse_, Frankie concluded. He looked at Wilt. His facial expression still gave no implications that he had had anything to do with this. And no matter else she thought about today's events, she refused to believe that Wilt was personally responsible for the abuse that Bendy had just described. For a little while, they looked at each other, slightly awkwardly. Then finally, she decided to utter the reassuring words:

"We won't be talking anymore about this."

Wilt apparently chose to take these words as literally as possibly, as he hurried out of the office without another word - Although she thought she could hear a faint "sorry" just as he closed the door.

Frankie leaned back. _It's still good being a boss_, she thought to herself. And all things considered, she had handled this pretty well. Okay, so technically, she had lost. But she had been fighting for a cause that wasn't worth winning, and it just took some time before she was willing to realize that.

But looking back, she wasn't sure if she'd given in because it was the sensible thing to do….or because, when she looked at herself in the mirror a few hours ago, she could've sworn that she saw the reflection of Mr. Herriman.

* * *

_A/N: This concludes the Bendy subplot. You might find the middle part of this chapter a bit confusing, unless you're familiar with the cartoon show __Robotboy. And I wouldn't blame you for being unfamiliar with __Robotboy., since it's pretty mediocre._

_But indulge me, please. You see, that show's main human character, Tommy Turnbull, is often compared to Mac because their head shapes are quite similar. It's become a sort of running joke, and that inspired me to have a little fun with the idea of Mac and Tommy Turnbull being cousins._


	12. The Women Of Foster's

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. If I did, it would last for more than six seasons, AND Goo would definitely appear in more episodes._

_And yes, the only reason why I put a disclaimer in this chapter is that I wanted to mention those two things now that the show has reached its finale._

* * *

"Good morning, Madame Foster. I am merely stopping by to pay this months rent."

Frankie shrugged. By now, she had given up on trying to convince Mr. Herriman that he did _not_ need to pay _rent_ for staying at Foster's. It was something he'd begun doing right after Martha Foster's will had been read. He just had so much pride. Now that he was no longer an employee of Foster's, he refused to be a charity case, and he told her so whenever she tried to argue against him paying rent. But he also used more clever arguments: "Consider it a gift. Surely you would not turn down a private donation, with no strings attached?"

He did have a point, she supposed. And after all, it was _his_ money – it was the savings he had inherited from her grandmother. He was free to do as he pleased with them. If he wanted to use them to help the house, great.

"Thank you. But Mr. Herriman? You don't have to keep on calling me 'Madame Foster' if you don't feel comfortable with it."

"Nonsense, Madame. That title is a part of your rightful inheritance, and I for one would not dream of denying you of it!"

Frankie could tell, both from the tone of his voice and his facial expression, that he meant every word. However, there was a hint of fatigue in his voice. He wasn't enjoying his retirement, and that was hardly a surprise. His job had been his entire life, and he openly admitted it. On the other hand, he was too proud too accept the position of president if Frankie was going to belittle his authority. And she would - As the Madame she would overrun his decisions far more often than Martha Foster had ever done.

Still, the dilemma remained, but it finally looked as if a solution was about to present itself. And it was all – or at least mostly – thanks to a man who had come into Frankie's life when she had nearly given up on men. Speaking of which, it was about time she went to see how said man was doing – Before Duchess killed him.

She walked over to Duchess' room, where One-Eyed Cy was standing guard. He looked calm. Nevertheless, her voice was still worried as she asked him:  
"How are they doing?"

The green ogre-ish Imaginary shrugged. "Pretty good, I think. Duchess was yelling an awful lot at first, and for a while, I was prepared to go inside and interfere. But for the last twenty minutes, they've just been talking lowly, and… I think I heard Duchess cry a couple of times."

Frankie's eyes widened. "Duchess? Crying? Are you sure it was her?"

Cy shrugged. "Well, it was more like sobbing, really. But it was coming form her, definitely."

"Amazing!" she commented, and stared at the door for nearly a minute, resisting an urge to put her ear towards it and eavesdrop. Then the door opened, slowly, and Frankie's eyes met the disfigured face of Duchess.

"The session is over" she muttered in a unusually meek voice. "But I may want to talk with the Doctor again, later." As she began to move, she continued: "Madame, can I have some tea now, please?"

Frankie gaped. She said "please"? _Duchess_ said "please"?

"Uh… sh… sh… sure, Duchess", Frankie stuttered. "Just give me a minute to have a word with Eri… Dr. Johnstone."

"Of course, Madame, take your time." Duchess said calmly, and nodded before she walked onwards, leaving a shocked Frankie Foster behind.  
Patience! Politeness! Was that really _Duchess_ she had just been talking to? As Frankie continued to stare at the creature that was walking towards the kitchen, a voice behind her said: "That went rather well, I think."

She turned around and looked into the kind, blue eyes of Eric Johnstone.

"_Well?_" Frankie exclaimed, "Eric, let me tell you something in earnest: Right now, I'm almost expecting you to turn lead into gold!"

He chuckled. "Now, now, I'll admit that Duchess is a tough nut to crack. She's got truckloads of issues, to put it bluntly, but we made some progress, I think. While she wouldn't say it outright, I think an important part of her problem might be that she behaves badly because she thinks it's better to be hated because of her personality than because of her grotesque appearance."

"Interesting theory", Frankie commented. Duchess had been at Foster's for over forty years. Had she always been misbehaving? Frankie made a mental note to ask Mr. Herriman about that one of these days.

"If that is her problem, and she is willing to admit it, we could be talking about a real breakthrough. She did mention she'd hate the thought of anyone pitying her, and that's a clue right there. For the time being, however -" He put an arm around her shoulder, something which Frankie seemed to welcome. "- Don't expect her to change overnight like Scrooge at Christmas. These things take time. If anything, Duchess might act even meaner than before for the next few days, to "compensate" for having shown "weakness" today."

"It's hard to imagine how Duchess could become even meaner than she usually is", Frankie said. "But in any case, I really appreciate this. I was getting convinced that there was nothing anyone could do for that woman."

"It's hard to understand Duchess, but that doesn't mean there's nothing to understand. I want to have another session with her next week. But right now, there's another female Imaginary I would like to meet. We had a deal, remember…?"

"Oh yeah. Well, no problem. She's waiting for you!"

Actually, it had been a problem to get Coco to talk to Eric. For some reason, she was the first Imaginary he wanted to have a session with. Presumably, Douglas and Adam had told him a lot about their former ward, the plant-bird-plane, and he was extra curious about her. Coco, on the other hand, was extra suspicious about him, maybe for some of the same reason. Or maybe she just didn't like the idea of being psychoanalyzed. In any case, the first time they met, Eric claimed that he couldn't understand a thing she was saying. But he wasn't saying this to accuse her, he insisted; he was merely making an observation. Coco was only making herself understood when she wanted to make herself understood. At least that was Eric's theory. It had taken a lot of smooth-talking on Frankie's behalf before Coco had agreed to do a session.  
When they greeted her in Frankie's office, however, she looked more agreeable.

"Coco coco co co co."

Frankie turned to Eric. "She's saying – "

"That's okay, I understood her this time."

They both smiled.

"Great! Well then Coco, can you take Dr. Johnstone to your room?"

"Co coco co co."

"Why not?"

"Coco co co co co co coco."

"Well, can't you ask Eurotrish nicely to go somewhere else in the meantime? Why does she need the room to herself, anyway?"

Co co co…cococo co cococo."

Frankie's eyes widened. "She and Eduardo? Really?"

"Co! Co co cococo co co cococ co co!"

Frustrated, Frankie waved her arms in the air. "How come I'm always the last one who gets to know these things?"

"Coco co coco co…?"

"Because I never ask? Sure, you just use _that_ old excuse!"

"Co, co coco co coco coco…"

"Pretty harmless stuff, huh?"

"Coco co coco co coco co coco co co co co."

Frankie chuckled. "Heh, yeah, I have to agree, it was something completely different when Mac and Goo were… _Wait_ a minute, you _knew_ what Mac and Goo were doing in the guest room!?"

Coco turned silent. Eric just looked confused.

"I'll explain it later", Frankie said to him. "And Coco has some explaining to do too, don't you, Coco…?"

The bird-plane-plant Imaginary responded with an embarrassed grin. She made an egg, and out of it came a couch of the type you see at psychiatrists' offices on TV. Presumably, this was her way of changing the subject.

"In the meantime, use my office. I need to run a few errands anyway."

"Thank you, Frankie", Eric replied before he picked up his recorder and spoke into it: "Note to self: Add "romantic involvements" to my research program…"

As Frankie opened the door, she ran into Bloo, who was waving a video game cartridge.

"My copy of the new _Space Wars: Vindication_ game just arrived!" he exclaimed. "Have you seen Eduardo?"

Frankie smiled. "Well, no ....but I know for a fact that he's busy."

"Again? When I asked him to play hockey with me in the kitchen yesterday, he also told me he was busy! What could be keeping that big lug so busy?"

_Okay, so I'm not _absolutely_ the last to know._, Frankie thought.

"You'd be surprised."

* * *

_AN: This is more of a transitional chapter. The big pay-off will be in the next chapter, followed by an epilogue._


	13. Job Satisfaction

Unfortunately, it turned out that Eric was right. In the days that followed, Duchess acted even worse than usual. She yelled at everyone wherever she went, made more and more unreasonable demands, and kicked and slapped the other friends (as well as the humans) for no apparent reason.

After a few days, however, she slowly began to mellow out. It wasn't that she was actually being nice to anyone, but more and more, she just ignored people. Then, a week after her first therapy session, she actually asked Frankie "when will your young man be available again?" Frankie was so surprised by this outright request for another therapy session that she didn't even object to Duchess referring to Eric as her "young man". She promised that Duchess would have priority.

"Of course - I should _always_ have priority!" Duchess snorted.

Frankie smiled bemusedly. Duchess hadn't lost her touch yet.

In the meantime, Eric claimed he'd made a breakthrough with Berry, of all people:

"Obviously she is unstable, but I have reason to believe she wasn't created that way. She actually allowed me to put her under hypnosis, and I learned some very interesting things that way. Berry has been suppressing some…unpleasant memories. Confidentiality is essential here. I can't give you any details. Suffice to say, she's had some very bad experiences with humans."

Frankie gaped.

"I… I had no idea…"

"I think nobody did. Just let me continue to have regular sessions with her. She's getting more stable, but I'd like to keep her under watch. By the way, please tell Bloo that he should continue to humor her. It keeps her happy."

"What do you mean hum…oh, Bloo isn't humouring her. He's just too dumb to understand that Berry considers him to be her boyfriend."

"Ignorance is bliss, then. On a different subject, have you spoken to Mr. Herriman yet?"

"I'm about to."

***

Indeed she was. The big imaginary rabbit was her next appointment. Mr. Herriman was still as distinguished-looking as ever, but he looked just a tad bit weary, and Frankie knew very well why. She decided to go straight for the throat, as it were:

"Tell me honestly, Mr. Herriman, how does retirement you"

"I'm adjusting" he said indifferently. From previous experience, Frankie knew that this was one subject that he had been trying to avoid ever since her takeover.

"Are you sure? Because I'm getting the impression that you're trying to restrain some frustration, and let's face it, the job as house president was your whole life. Word on the house is that you're mixing more and more gin into your daily afternoon carrot juice…"

"Miss Fra…Madame Foster!" Mr. Herriman bellowed. For the first time since Martha Foster's will was read, he almost referred to Frankie as "Miss Frances". And for the first time since Martha Foster died, he was speaking to Frankie in an angry tone of voice: "I fail to see what you could possibly get out of gloating over my situation!"

"Mr. H., please let me explain. I'm asking you this because I'm wondering if you might be interested in…a job."

Mr. Herriman's eyes widened. "A job?"

"Yes, as an inspector."

The rabbit seemed to think about it for a short moment. Then, to Frankie's slight surprise, he prepared to get out of the chair.

"I'm sorry Madame, I'm sure you mean well. But you and Master Wilt and…yes, even Miss Goo, are doing an excellent job of keeping order in this house. You do not need an officially appointed inspector to look after the house. No offence, Madame, but I do not need a pity job."

"Who's talking about a pity job? Mr. H., please sit down and let me explain some more."

The large Imaginary still looked sceptical, but he got seated again.

"Now then", Frankie continued, "I suppose you've heard of a group known as Imaginary Parents?

"Yes, they occasionally wrote me letters, asking me to lift the ban on childless adults adopting Imaginary friends."

"- Or at least discussing the matter with them." Frankie added.

"Yes, and I always refused, because it would be a waste of time. I would not have lifted the ban anyway. Believe me Madame, I have no desire to make things more difficult for people who truly wants to adopt imaginary friends, but I felt we had to draw the line somewhere. I'm certain that there are plenty of well-meaning adults out there who simply wants an imaginary friend to care for. But I do read the newspapers, so I know that the abuse of imaginary friends is a social problem. I would hate to leave any of our guests to humans who would end up using them for slave labor…or maybe abuse them in even worse ways – I'd rather not get into details, at least not when talking to a lady…"

Frankie nodded, and for a brief moment her thoughts went to Berry, and the unknown horrors that might have made her what she was today.

"Yes I understand, Mr. H. That's why I haven't lifted the ban. _Yet_. However, I have been talking with I.P., and they suggested something that might just work."

"I see…" Mr. Herriman muttered doubtfully. "Well, I will not pass judgement until I know the whole story. What did they suggest?"

She had been rehearsing this for quite some time.

"First of all, only childless adults registered members of Imaginary Parents will be allowed to adopt anyone from Foster's. And before you can become a member of the I.P., they have to do an extensive research of your background, to make sure you're clean."

"And second?"

"Second, all members who wants to adopt an Imaginary Friend will have to get a permission from an inspector, and they have to give him all the personal data he asks for. If the inspector thinks the applicant is unfit to take care of an Imaginary Friend, then there will be no adaptation."

"Ah, I think I get the picture…"

"Furthermore, the inspector can do as many check-ups as he wants. He can call the imaginary friend or the adopting party on the phone at any time, and he's allowed to make regular house-visits as well. If he thinks an Imaginary Friend is being mistreated, he has the right to take the Friend back to Foster's"

"That sounds like a reasonable agreement, I have to admit."

"Now, the problem is, where do we get the money to fill the inspector's position? The I.P. has a membership fee, and they have agreed to set aside some of that money to pay for the inspector's salary. Foster's Home will set aside a little bit money for this as well, but when you put it together, its' still not very much – Below minimum wage, to be honest."

Frankie took a break, just in case Mr. Herriman wanted to say something. But he appeared to be deep in thought.

"So we still had a problem. But that's when I told the I.P.: I know someone who might agree to take the job, even for less than minimum wage - Someone who already has as much money as he need, someone to whom it would be much more important to have a job and a responsibility than to get well paid. And above all, someone who will always have the imaginary friends' best interests in mind - Because he is one himself!"

_It's ironic_, Frankie thought. _The purpose of this job is to make sure that imaginary friends are not taken advantage of, but we wouldn't even be able to fill the position if we weren't allowed to pay imaginary friends less than minimum wage._ She leaned forward and smiled apologetically.

"I hope you don't mind that I spoke so freely about you…"

"Oh, you were talking about me?", Mr. Herriman said teasingly. "But seriously Madame, it does sound like a very solid arrangement. However, you make it sound like I, er, the inspector will have a very independent position. Surely Imaginary Parents must have some demands?"

"Well, we have to give rejected applicants a chance to appeal after three months. And the I.P. is expecting you to approve _some_ of the applications, of course. But how many is up to you. You'll have the last word."

Again, Mr. Herriman seemed to be deep in thought. But Frankie felt confidant. She knew she had given Mr. H. an offer he couldn't refuse. He once took a job packing groceries in a supermarket, just so he wouldn't feel useless. - _Of course_ he wasn't going to turn down a job with some real authority and responsibility! The only reason he gave up his position as President of Foster's Home for Imaginary Friend was because Martha Fosters' testament told him to. This had to be the opportunity he had been waiting for. It was also the opportunity Frankie had been waiting for. She felt a responsibility for Mr. Herriman; he used to be her grandmother's life-long Imaginary Friend, after all.

"I will have to sleep on it", he said.

***

And he did, but not for long. When she arrived at her office at seven o'clock in the morning the following day, someone was already waiting impatiently for her:

"Well, that's about time, Madame Foster! Do you think I have the whole day to waste?"

Frankie smiled as she unlocked the office door. "That's a good question, Mr. H. _Do_ you?"

Mr. Herriman harked. "Well…. After much consideration…I have decided to accept your offer…_purely_ for the greater good, of course, for the well-being of figmentkind."

Frankie nodded. "We're very glad to have you…"

As if to remind Mr. Herriman that there _was_ in fact a "we", Eric, still a little sleepy-looking, came walking in. He was carrying a box.

"Ah, Good morning, Eric" Frankie beamed, "Mr. H. has just accepted the offer we talked about."

The imaginary friend psychologist instantly looked more awake. "That's great news! Imaginary Parents might become a success after all!"

"Ah, Master Eric, I wasn't expecting to see you here so early in the morning."

"Actually, I spent the night here", he explained casually.

Mr. Herriman stared at him for a moment. Then he harked loudly and tried to look away form both him and Frankie.

"Mr. Herriman, is something wrong?" Frankie asked him uncertainly.

The rabbit shrugged. "No, no, by all means. You are a grown woman after all, and this is none of my business, strictly speaking."

Frankie was still a little confused. "What do you mean, exactly?" she asked suspiciously

"I mean, I'm not naïve, I know that affairs like this take place all the time. But in my days, humans were a little more discreet about it…"

Frankie moaned. Eric, who also realized what Mr. Herriman had been talking about now, said calmly:

"I wasn't sleeping in Frankie's bedroom, sir, let alone in her bed."

"Yeah, Mr. H, don't tell me that you believe in these rumors as well!" Frankie said, a little less calmly. "I swear, sometimes you're as bad as Bloo!"

"That is quite an exaggeration, Madame. For example, unlike Master Blooregard, I have yet to imply that you are planning to turn the house into a parking lot, sell the tenants as slaves, and run away with the money and Master Eric to the Caribbean."

Eric couldn't help but laughing out loud.

"Bloo said _that_?"

Frankie sighed deeply. "Yes, and _even so_, I don't think of him as one of your top priorities! _That_'s how bad things are!"

"I believe we are moving away from the subject here." Mr. Herriman pointed out.

Frankie smiled apologetically. "Oh yeah, the job…"

"So… when am I supposed to start?"

"As soon as you'd like", Eric replied, dumping the contents of his box on Frankie's desk. "These are all application letters from I. P. members", he explained. "Your first job will be to read through all of these. Then you're supposed to pick out the ones you think are the most deserving and trustworthy, write them letters and call them in for interviews."

Mr. Herriman was already shuffling through the letters. Occasionally, he would and study some of them more carefully.

"I.P. would like you to notify the applicants via e-mail", he continued. "Now, I've been told –

"I will send my letters through the postal system", Mr. Herriman said expressively. "As I recall, we still have a few hundred notepapers and envelopes with Foster's logo printed on them. It would be a shame to let them go to waste."

"Told you so", Frankie said with a shrug, and turned to Mr. Herriman. "In fact, Mr. H., I took the liberty of preparing your old typewriter." She picked the nearly antique machine out of a box which she had also been hiding behind her desk.

"Jolly good!"

"If you're starting today, you're going to have to read those letters in your own room, or wherever you feel comfortable." Frankie continued. "But there's a room on the third floor that became available last week, and we're setting it up as a working space - Because I guess you're going to want your own office."

"Most certainly, Madame, the sooner, the better!"

You'd have to hand it to Mr. Herriman – He wasn't one for false modesty.

Eric held out his hand to Mr. Herriman, who nodded and shook it.

"Glad to have you aboard, sir."

"Thank you Master Eric, I shall be looking forward to working with you – hopefully - good people in Imaginary Parents.

"Actually, recruiting you will be my last official task as spokesman for Imaginary Parents."

"I see. And why is that?"

"I had a personal chat with its Chairwoman a few days ago, and she suggested that I step down because…ahem, apparently, I've gotten too emotionally attached to" – he took a pause and smiled at Frankie – "Foster's management."

Frankie got up "Well, I'm Mr. Herriman doesn't need to hear your entire life story, Eric", she said gleefully as she pushed him towards the room. "Now go down and get some breakfast. I'll be right with you!" Then she gave him a kiss – albeit on the cheek – before she pushed him out the door.

She turned around slowly.

Mr. Herriman frowned, if only slightly, and crossed his arms. "_Well_, Madame Foster. For all your indignation, you and Master Eric _are_ in fact –"

"He only said he wasn't sleeping in my room, and he _isn't_." Frankie smiled coquettishly. "_Yet_."

* * *

A/N: As you can see, introducing the whole "Imaginary Parents" concept did have a purpose, other than just introducing a potential love interest for Frankie : )

This chapter sums up a lot. All that's left now is my epilogue (which I think you'll find interesting), and that will be the end of the "Figmenta Non Grata" storyline. Where I'll go from there, I don't know yet.


	14. Guess Who?

**Figmenta Non Grata, Epilogue:**  
**Guess Who?**

Frankie was content.

So content, that it was actually starting to worry her.

Everything was going so well. Mr. Herriman finally had a job again – A meaningful and important job that wouldn't interfere with her position as president of the house. Finances were good, and the private donations were increasing. Everyone seemed happy with the way she was running things, both the tenants, the contributors, and the press. Mac and Goo were controlling themselves, too. Sure, there was the occasional make-out session in the kitchen or on the top baclony, but that was within the bounds of what Frankie considered acceptable. There were no hints of them trying to pull another "guest room stunt". Berry wasn't making much trouble, Bendy was behaving himself, and even Duchess was almost tolerable sometimes.

On top of it all, she even had a man in her life, at a point of time when she had almost given up on men entirely. Frankie had decided that just because she was thirty, that still was no reason to desperately cling to any convenient, available man, and she was still determined not to hurry into anything. But she couldn't remember the last time she met someone she had such as good feeling about as Eric. She still objected whenever someone referred to him as her "boyfriend", but it didn't stop people from talking. And when she entered into the kitchen this Friday morning, Goo and a bunch of female Friends were eagerly waiting for her to comment on the latest rumor, one which didn't sound quite as implausible as most of them. In fact, the rumour was true for once, and Frankie openly admitted it: She and Eric were finally going on their first date together on Saturday.

Despite of everything going so well, Frankie was worried. Or actually, _because_ everything was going so well. It was too good to last. Something terrible was bound to happen. She felt stupid for thinking this way, but she couldn't help it.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking on the door, and Wilt sticking his head in:

"Sorry Frankie, I'd like to wash the floor in here now, is that okay?"

Frankie nodded, and got out of her chair.

"Of course, Wilt. This is probably a good time to take an inspection round anyway." , she said, and strolled out the door.

Frankie walked towards the stairs, pondering on why she couldn't just be happy about how well things were going. Why did she have to think something bad was bound to happen? That's when she heard Goo's voice from the entrance hall below:

"I dunno about this, Mac. I don't think he _looks_ like an Imaginary Friend."

Mac, who had this Friday off from school and had come to help out in the house, replied:

"But he _is_, trust me!"

Frankie kept walking, and paid closer attention.

"I mean, look at that stupid red nose. It's _obviously_ a fake!"

For a moment, a very brief moment before she began walking even faster, Frankie stiffened. It _couldn't_ be…. Could it?

"Oh the nose _is_ fake. But if I remove it like this – Look what happens…"

"Aaah, I stand corrected. You obviously _are_ an Imaginary Friend. So what's your name, mister?"

"Goofball John McGee."

For a moment, everything was dead silent in the hallway, except for the sound of Frankie's feet going faster and coming nearer.

"_You're_ Goofball McGee?" Goo said nervously. "Uh oh…"

"Exactly. So why don't you give him the tour while I try to break the news to Frankie gently…"

"**TOO LATE!!**"

Mac and Goo both turned around slowly. The face they looked at right now was not the face of the Frankie they knew. It was a face whose every muscle was tightened to the breaking point, a face made up by nothing by pure, unrestricted rage and madness. A face that was breathing like a whale.

"Goo!" she said through gritted teeth. "Go and get my camera!"

"Whatever do you need a camera for right-"

"**NOW!!!**"

Terrified, Goo hurried up the stairs as fast her lanky legs could carry her. With a mad look in her eyes, Frankie turned her attention to Goofball, who unlike Mac, looked more bewildered than scared.

"Confused, Goofball? You won't be! You're going _out_ that door - " she said, pointing at the entrance, "- in a minute! I just want a picture taken of me kicking your sorry ass on the way out!"

The humanoid Imaginary Friend began to sweat, realizing that she meant it.

"Frankie…" Mac began.

"Then I'm going to have the photo blown up and framed!", Frankie continued with mad glee, ignoring Mac.

"Frankie…"

"Uh…where is Mr. Herriman?" Goofball asked, trying to look calm. It wasn't very convincing.

"Mr. Herriman can't help you! _I'm_ in charge now! Heh heh… this is gonna be _so_ sweet! I've been waiting eight years for a chance like this!"

"Frankie…"

"And here I was thinking my day couldn't get any better…"

"FRANKIE!"

She turned around. "Oh, are you still here?" she muttered, as if she really had been expecting Mac to just leave and let her gloat madly in peace.

"Frankie, please… don't be like this. You know you can't just throw him out."

"Of course I can! And I will!"

"We can't make any exceptions. You said so yourself, remember?"

"I'm in charge here! I can make an exception if I want to!"

"What about the plaque?"

"**SCREW THE PLAQUE!! I'LL TEAR DOWN THE PLAQUE!!!**"

There really wasn't much of an echo in the entrance hall. Not usually. But right now, Frankie could swear that her "_I'll tear down the plaque!!!_" was echoing over and over again in Foster's old walls. Frankie turned stiff, realizing what she had just said.

She looked up, and around. Goo, who had come running down with a camera, stopped and stood still in the middle of the staircase.

"I'm…I'm sorry." She muttered.

"Very well! I accept the apology." Goofball commented suavely.

"She wasn't talking to you." Mac said hurriedly, partly to keep Frankie from wrangling Goofball's neck, partly because he noticed that Frankie was facing the bust of her grandmother when she apologized.

"I wasn't talking to you." Frankie confirmed. She sighed. "But you can stay", she told the Canadian slacker Friend before turning to Mac.

"_You'll_ be taking care of him! You and Wilt!" she snapped "But not Goo – She had nothing to do with…that."

Mac and Goo nodded; they both knew what "that" was about. Then, to Frankie's slight surprise, Mac took Goo aside and they began whispering. She didn't catch much of it, except for Mac saying "_Because she's still mad at me for it_".

Mac went over to Goofball. "Shall I give you the guided tour?" he suggested.

The Imaginary Friend shrugged.

"I think I already know this place well enough from the last time…"

"Let's take the tour, anyway." Mac said firmly, pushing him out of Frankie's sight.

Slowly, Frankie walked back up the stairs, with Goo tagging right behind her.

"Frankie! I'm sorry you had to go through this But we can relate. This is sorta like it was with Mac and me when Berry came back last month, right? Not that I'm mentioning that to gloat, no way, nuh huh! Oh, I _did_ consider gloating _a little_, the moment I realized that guy was Goofball McGee. But only for a few seconds , until I remembered –"

"It's okay." Frankie interrupted her. "Mac was right. I can't make exceptions just because I feel like it. It's just hard. You have no idea what it was like, having to deal with that guy…"

"Yes I do!" Goo insisted. "Mac told me all about it, and when he was finished, I cried uncontrollably and then I slapped him and then I yelled at him for not supporting you more!" She looked down. "Of course, then he mentioned something about surprise parties and clowns, and then we sorta agreed not to discuss it anymore…" she added.

Frankie smiled.

"Thanks, anyway, Goo."

"No problem. Hey, look from the bright side - The situation is totally different this time. Like you said, you _are_ in charge now!"

Frankie nodded, and smiled again.

"Yeah… I am, aren't I…"

She opened the door to her office.

"Now if you'll excuse me…"

"What was all that noise?" Wilt asked her as she closed the door. He was currently dusting the shelves.

"Just a new tenant." Frankie answered casually, as she sat down and picked up the room list.

Flipping through it, she added: "Tell me, Wilt, do you know if anyone is currently sharing a room with Count Flatula?"

"Goodness, no! Nobody wants to share a room with Count Flatula! You know, because of his…ahem… gas problems."

Frankie gave her deputy a wide grin.

"Well, due to considerations of space –" she leaned back in her chair "- he's got a roomate now."

**The End**

* * *

_A/N: I really have enjoyed writing this fic, and I might make a sequel, or at least a few one-shots based in the same continuity, later. But for now, it's over._

_A heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed and/or faved "Frankie Rules", both on and on DA, and to everyone who's going to do it (hopefully, there will be many)._

_Please tell me what you think about this epilogue; I know how controversial "Imposter's Home for Made Up Pals" has always been, and it feels good to try and give that episode a resolution, the way I've previoulsy done with "Everyone Knows it's Bendy" and "Foster's Goes to Europe"._

_Thank you and good night. I'll be back!_


End file.
